A Slayer's Heart
by krisztina
Summary: X-Men xover Buffy finds love at Xavier's School for the Gifted, but how much will she have to sacrifice to keep it? Logan has been empty, hunting for the missing pieces of his soul for years. Will he reach out for what's his, when it's within his grasp?
1. Prelude

Title: A Slayer's Heart  
  
Author: Krisztina (aka sita:)  
  
Rating, etc.: AU Chapters will vary from PG to R for sexual content. There will be NC-17 chapters written, but they will appear only on AFF and TtH. However, they will be self-contained, so if you don't want to read them you will still be able to keep up with the story.  
  
Pairing: Buffy/ Logan eventually, but Buffy flirtations abound  
  
Spoilers: X-Men2, BtVS Season 1-7  
  
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things X-Men belong to Marvel, et al.  
  
Distribution: TTH, FF & AFF.  
  
Author's Notes: This story starts with a few snippets all over the map in terms of time and place. I've noted the location and date at the top of each section. Please read those so that you won't be confused :) The timelines are giving me fits. If you see something that stands out as being incredibly wrong, let me know. This story takes place throughout Buffy's life, but mostly during the summers of HS and college. Changes to canon are inevitable. Just go with it and I'll try not to deviate too much.  
  
Also, this is definitely based on the film versions of X-Men, post film 2. The only change is that Pyro hasn't left the X-Men yet. I'd like to go back and read the comics, but I really don't have the time or cash right now. Truth is, I like Logan as the film interprets him for the most part. I'm pushing creative license to the limit and embellishing his passion a bit on the inside, while trying to keep his exterior as we saw it in the film. If that bothers you, move along.  
  
FYI, this is unbeta'd. If you'd like to offer your beta talent, I'd love to have it.  
  
Feedback: Please review. It only takes a minute and your interest gives me such a happy :)   
  


Alkali Lake, somewhere in the Canadian Rockies January, 1981  
  
Two men sat across a desk from each other in an elegant office, several hundred feet beneath the snow falling outside. Smythe, a young, eager Brit lifted a worn leather case and set it on the edge.  
  
"Here are your ingredients, including the girl's blood sample, Stryker. My employer asked me to remind you, and I quote, 'for God's sake man, just keep us out of your official reports'."  
  
William Stryker leaned forward in his chair and wrapped his fingers slowly around the handle as if savoring the motion. Inhaling deeply, he placed the case on the floor next to him, and leaned back again. "Very well... we'll transfer the 50 million pounds to your organization through your account in Lucerne, per your request." Stryker paused, sipping his scotch before continuing, "So, whose blood is it anyway? What can you tell me about her?"  
  
"It's the blood of a newborn. We secured it at the hospital during the routine Pediatric exam. She has the correct gene sequence for the amplification of dark magic, but with sufficient flaws to ensure that she will never be called. Her family currently resides in Los Angeles. One of the lesser Watchers will keep track of her until you are ready to use her for your... pet project."  
  
"Are you absolutely sure, Smythe? The mutant's been resisting our drug therapy, and I must be 100% certain that we can control him. A fiasco down the road could be detrimental to both your superior's career and mine."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, man!" he scoffed. "This spell has been used successfully for generations. Once you blend the mutant gene with that of the werewolf, your soldier will be most susceptible. If the worst should happen and this girl becomes the Slayer, we'll handle her from our end."  
  
Stryker nodded and started to lead his guest to the door.  
  
As he opened the door, Smythe turned to look Stryker in the eye. "There's really no reason for concern, old man," Smythe chuckled mirthlessly, amused at his own thoughts.  
  
"Like so many others, this girl was born to be nothing more than wasted potential."  
  
(end chapter) 


	2. A Father's Love

A Father's Love 

16300 Revello Drive 

May 15, 1997  


  
  
Beep!  
  
"Hi Buffy, it's Dad. Listen sweetie, I'm not going to be able to keep you this summer..."  
  
Wham!  
  
Beep!  
  
"Hi Buffy, it's Dad. Listen sweetie, I'm not going to be able to keep you this summer..."  
  
Wham!  
  
Beep!  
  
"Hi Buffy, it's Dad. Listen sweetie, I'm not going to be able to keep you..."  
  
Joyce sighed and covered her daughter's hand with her own. "Buffy honey, I know you're disappointed, but at least listen to the entire message before..."  
  
Wham!  
  
Beep!  
  
"Hi Buffy, it's Dad. Listen sweetie, I'm not going to be able to keep you this summer. Something's come up... at work. But I've arranged for you to stay with your cousin Scott in New York. New York, Buffy! Won't that be fun? And I had my Secretary book you a flight in First Class - nothing but the best for my girl! Your ticket should arrive today and I've enclosed a nice big check... for... for shoe shopping and such. Call me later if you want. Bye honey!"   
  
(end chapter)  
  
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	3. The First Taste

The First Taste  
  
Kennedy Airport, NYC May 27, 1997  
  
Buffy walked off the plane and headed toward a white sign with "Buffy Summers" printed neatly in red letters. The man holding the sign winked at her as she caught his eye. Now here's a hottie, she reflected, taking in the muscle definition beneath his fitted white tank top and jeans. 

Smiling to herself, she sauntered up to him and offered him her hand. "I'm Buffy." The man inhaled deeply as if he were drinking her in, then captured her tiny hand in his, "I'm Logan. Scott's teaching a class now, so I offered to pick you up." 

Logan reached for her duffle and backpack, but Buffy skirted out of the way.  
  
"So chivalry lives in New York, huh? We don't get much of that in California. My friend, Xander, is the last practitioner, and girls just look at him like he's fungal. He's stubborn, but eventually he'll toss in the towel, too." 

He smirked and reached for her bags a second time. "It's cool. I got it," she grinned, evading him yet again.  
  
"Sure you're Scott's cousin?" he inquired sardonically. 

"Guilty," she laughed, as she stepped in front of him to slip between two parked cars. 

"Tragic." 

"For me or Scott?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder, with a saucy smirk.  
  
"You," he replied. Under his breath, she heard Logan whisper, "definitely you."  
  
(end chapter) 

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	4. Bowled Over

ANs: I couldn't find a last name for Rogue. Apparently even the first name, Marie, was invented by the films. According to Nightcrawlers' X-men Heroes site, she has an alias in the comics, Dr. Kellogg.  
  
Hated it.  
  
So I'm calling her Marie LaVeau, after the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.  
  
Bowled Over  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
May 27, 1999  
  
It was noon and Buffy had reached her destination a few minutes earlier. She knew that everyone at the school was a mutant, as Scott had confessed as much a few years before. It didn't really bother her. Who was she to judge? Would she be perceived as any less freaksome by the masses? She had decided on the way from the airport that she would play dumb and not ask anyone about their powers until they offered. She could definitely relate to the students' need for privacy, as keeping secrets was part of the deal that came with Slayer strength and speed.  
  
Buffy had changed from her traveling clothes into some jean shorts, a baby blue tank top and strappy sandals. She was seated at the kitchen island bar playing with her lunch. She leaned her cheek against her hand and closed her eyes. Scott dropped into the seat next to her. While she was glad to see her cousin, she wasn't ready for the customary onslaught of trivial questions that started their visits. Couldn't they just skip to the meaningful discussions this time? She turned her body away from him slightly. He didn't take the hint.  
  
"So... Buffy, how's school going?" he asked.  
  
"It's going. It goes... away every summer."  
  
"I heard from Aunt Joyce that you didn't burn down the gym this year, not to mention minimal fights and class ditching." Nudging her shoulder for emphasis, he continued, "Way to go, cuz!"  
  
Had he always been this lame, she mused.  
  
The students behind her chuckled and Buffy groaned.  
  
And your parents?" he continued.  
  
Buffy lifted her head and smirked, "Mom's getting by. Dad smelled like his Secretary's perfume when he met me at the LAX Starbuck's this morning before my flight."  
  
"Oh. Umm..." Scott started, but Buffy cut him off quickly.  
  
"Now that he's single again, Dad's catching up on all the trends... daughter dumping, for example. It's the latest dance. All the cool dads are doing it."  
  
Laughter erupted behind her.  
  
Buffy slowly turned to look over her shoulder at the people Scott had introduced her to earlier. Charles Xavier, the school director, and his students: Marie LaVeau, Bobby Drake, and John Allerdyce, were gathered around the kitchen table. Professor Logan leaned casually against the window frame just beyond the table. His gaze was unreadable. Looking down again, she locked eyes with the perpetrator, who still smiled brilliantly, flicking his Zippo. He's a honey, she thought. Too bad he's a complete jerk.  
  
She turned her rotating stool toward him, clutching her bowl in one hand. "Think that's funny, fuego boy?" she demanded aggressively.  
  
"Hmmm, let's think. Do I find a spoiled little princess feeling sorry for herself funny? Yep. I sure do," he replied, no longer grinning.  
  
"Well, this is what I call funny," she sneered. Forgetting her slayer strength, she shot her bowl at him like an upside-down Frisbee.  
  
The bowl whizzed through the air, spraying sauce in a circular pattern on the floor, walls, and table's occupants. Then it connected John's forehead.  
  
Thunk!  
  
For a moment, everyone stared at Buffy in complete shock. Suddenly, John stood and swayed slightly.  
  
"Oh my... oh I'm so so sorry! Ididn'tmeantoIreallydidn'tIjust...yougotmesomad..."  
  
Gripping the table with both hands and lowering his chin determinedly, he bit out, "Somebody needs to teach you some manners, princess..."  
  
"Ahh!" Buffy cried and made a break for the door with John hot on her trail. Reaching for the door knob and flinging herself forward into the garden, she thought she heard Scott mumble, "fuego boy?"  
  
Professor Xavier wiped Buffy's alfredo sauce from his forehead with his napkin, and chuckled to himself. "Sassy little thing..."  
  
"Not to mention deeply violent," Bobby added.  
  
"And an excellent shot," Marie chimed in with a grin.  
  
Scott apologized profusely to everyone. Marie and Bobby helped him to wipe up the mess, as Logan watched through the window as the teens outside raced toward the woods. Scott thought he heard his former rival mumble, "Damn she can really move..."  
  
"I'm sorry that we had to bring her here," Scot began. "She's a sweet girl, but she's been in so much trouble since her parent's separation. My uncle's said that he's starting a new life with another woman and he didn't want Buffy to be upset and feel awkward. He left me with no real choice."  
  
Turning to Scott, Xavier said, "Don't worry, Scott, Buffy has enough on her mind," then continued, almost to himself, "She's really quite an exceptional young lady, isn't she?"  
  
Scott nodded distractedly, and whispered, "If only I could figure out how to help her get through this."  
  
"Boxing lessons, perhaps?" Xavier suggested with a smile.  
  
As she sensed John's approach, Buffy rounded a corner and pushed herself harder toward a copse of trees. She's never outrun him in these shoes. Damn he's fast, she thought with a small smile of appreciation.  
  
Just before she reached the enveloping leaves of the first maple, John launched himself across the distance and brought her down. They rolled for several feet before he pushed himself on top of her, straddled her legs, and leaned forward on his elbows.  
  
"That wasn't very polite... princess," he whispered, a smile in his voice. "I'm probably scarred for life."  
  
She laughed and pushed up against him, testing his resolve. "Planning to sue?" she asked.  
  
Brushing his lips against hers, he murmured, "Maybe..."  
  
"Well then," she smirked against his mouth, "I retain the right to withhold the smoochies until you come around to my way of thinking." Using the element of surprise rather than her strength, she rolled him off her, kicked up to her feet and started walking back to the house.  
  
"Later, fuego boy," she called to him dismissively.  
  
"Hey! Princess!" he hollered for the whole yard to hear. Buffy stopped and whirled around. "Did you really burn down the gym?"  
  
"Maybe..."  
  
(end chapter)  
  
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	5. Leave No Evidence

Leave No Evidence  
  
London 

November 10, 1981  


Quentin Travers toyed with the little scrap of paper he had just decoded. His brow was creased and his lips were set in a deep scowl. Cursing softly, he kicked at the side of his desk. Slowly he stood and walked to the fireplace. Hesitating for a moment he dropped the paper into the smoldering coals.  
  
As the flames licked at the parchment, these words began to disappear:  
  
Project has been interrupted. Subject turned feral. Destroyed lab and several operatives. Gone to ground. Subject has been linked to control and activated. Danger to control and local populace eminent. All possible attempts at recovery have proved fruitless. Leave no evidence to trace back to us intact and we will do the same.  
  
We have found another test subject and will try again with a different form of control we have developed. Your participation is no longer necessary.  
  
(end chapter)  
  
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	6. Dreams and Misdemeanors

Dreams and Misdemeanors  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters May 28, 1999, 3 AM  
  
Logan tossed and turned in his bed, moaning. Sweat beaded all over his body, trickling along the ravines of his muscles down to pool on the sheets beneath him. Bright lights and images flashed behind his eyelids, welling up from deep within his subconscious. Voices slipped past, familiar yet indistinct, until his mind focused on one voice in particular. He knew that voice.  
  
"Buffy!" he murmured, shaking himself awake.  
  
He sat up and rested his head in his hands as waves of longing washed over him. She was intoxicating. She was beautiful. She made him feel wild and completely out of control. Yet on some level he knew that he would never know peace again until he touched her.  
  
He could never touch her. His conscience lectured him.  
  
She's just a child!  
  
He tightened his jaw. He would get over this preoccupation with Buffy. He would get over it and they would be friends.  
  
Maybe they could be friends with benefits?  
  
No! Don't think about the benefits! No benefits with Buffy!  
  
Logan pulled himself up, jumped into a pair of jeans and headed toward the door. He'd go to the teacher's lounge. Maybe a beer from his stash would cool him off.  
  
Reaching the bottom stair, he heard Buffy's voice in the kitchen. John and Bobby appeared to be listening to her conversation just outside the entrance to the kitchen. But something was off. They weren't, as he would expect, in a childishly conspiratorial stance. In fact, their body language indicated that they were disturbed by what they were hearing. He stepped closer stealthily and let them know he was there. John gestured that Buffy was talking on the phone. Bobby whispered, fear in his eyes, "You're not going to believe this."  
  
Logan risked a glance inside the kitchen. Buffy's back was turned, but he could see that she wore knee high black boots, a tiny green mini skirt and a pale pink bra. He moaned softly.  
  
"Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, yeah Will, that's sounds like this... tall, pale and ugly..." Buffy murmured. "No! I don't want you to tell Giles. Not yet. He'd freak. Just find me a hole in their body armor or some other way to kill them without making like a shish kabob. I can't get close enough to... Yeah, that's a good idea. If you see him, you can tell Angel. He may have dealt with these guys before. There's a major nest about a mile from the school. I don't want any of these kids to wind up as a tasty treat."  
  
She was standing next to the island leaning against it slightly. The telephone was cradled between her ear and shoulder, and she had a kitchen towel pressed between her lower back and the bar. He gasped when he caught sight of the slip of pink fabric on the floor next to her, torn and covered in blood.  
  
"Xander! Jeeze! Are you going to tantrum every time I mention his name? Angel and I are so not getting back together this summer. Hello! He's 242 years older than me and completely pulse-less. Not to mention, zillions of miles away. Despite everything that happened this year, I really don't think he's going come a-running all the way to New York just because I'm a little out of my element. I want his advice... and Ok, his kissage too, but some things just cannot be...Xander! Stop with the Grinch-ing, party pooper, or let me talk to Willow alone."  
  
She reached into her duffle bag on the bar and pulled out a roll of bandages. When she dropped the towel, John, Bobby and Logan winced simultaneously at the gaping, bleeding gash in her lower back. Gingerly, she applied peroxide and taped a bandage over her wound. Then, she leaned over, picked up her shirt, and tucked it in the trash under some newspaper.  
  
"You know Will," Buffy sighed dramatically, "it's truly a crime how many fun and fashionably daring outfits are totally decimated by brawling." She tossed her head and grinned, "It's a bad habit. Don't pick it up.  
  
Then she turned toward the fridge and the boys scuttled backward, "No guys, don't worry about me. Get some sleep tonight. Research menana. I handled the Master, I can deal. Just email me with what you find out..."  
  
Realizing that Buffy was about to end her call, the eavesdroppers slipped away and sped down the hall. They didn't see her walk to the doorway and follow them with her eyes until they turned down the hall, or hear her sigh to herself as she climbed the stairs, "Less than fourteen hours and everyone knows I'm the Slayer. A new all-time Buffy record... Giles'll be so proud."  
  
Logan motioned for the boys to follow him into one of the classrooms.  
  
"What the hell was that?' John exclaimed in a loud whisper.  
  
"I don't know for sure," Logan said, pushing his hand through his hair, pacing.  
  
"She was hurt pretty bad, should we... should we confront her with what we know and get her to a hospital? Should we go get Cyclops?" Bobby asked, as he crossed his arms and sat down on the top of a desk.  
  
"No. We really don't know anything for sure, Bobby. She seemed to know what she was doing and that wound will keep her incapacitated for a while. We'll have to talk to Scott in the morning, I guess, but there's no need to wake him," Logan replied.  
  
"She mentioned the students being eaten. Do you think she was out hunting mutants? Or maybe roving bands of mutant cannibals?" Bobby wondered aloud.  
  
John snorted, "Man, don't be stupid. Obviously she was trying to kill something, but I really don't think there's any such thing as a mutant cannibal. It must have been some kind of code... But something got her good. Kinda made me feel sorry for her... she's such a little tiny thing."  
  
"And her ex-boyfriend, Angel, he's definitely a mutant," Bobby offered.  
  
"What? How do you figure?" John asked hopefully.  
  
Bobby grinned, "Well she said '242 years older and pulse-less'. He must have some kind of longevity mutation that slows his heartbeat to practically nothing... Maybe she's a mutant, too?"  
  
Logan grinned inwardly, thinking to himself. So maybe I'm not too old for her. And if she is a mutant, she'll need protecting from the outside world...  
  
A few hours later, it was time to end the speculation. The sun was beginning to rise. They could have dissected Buffy's call for a week, and find themselves no closer to solving the mystery. Directing the boys out the door, Logan said, "Come on, back to bed for another hour or two. I'll talk to Xavier when he wakes up. In the meantime, you guys play it cool."  
  
Bobby looked at him expectantly, and Logan continued, "Yes, you can tell Rogue, but she needs to keep it quiet, too. The simplest way to find out what really happened would be for Buffy to tell us. Obviously, she has friends in California who she talks to... maybe once we earn her trust..."  
  
As they approached the landing, Logan held out his hand to stop Bobby and John. Straining to hear, he picked up muffled sobs coming from behind Buffy's at the end of the corridor. They walked to the door. John moved forward first, reached out and turned the knob slowly.  
  
Buffy rolled over and mumbled, "I don't care. I. Don't. Care. I'm only sixteen. I don't want to die. Oh no? I quit! Pay attention!" Then she started to weep. Tears rolled down her flushed cheeks from beneath her tightly sealed eyelids. "There's no one else. I have to... stop the Master..."  
  
John sat down on the edge of the bed and brushed her bangs back from her eyes. "Sssshhh princess, don't cry. It's alright." Buffy flinched, bolted upright, then snaked her arms around him. John patted her back and whispered against her hair. As she began to quiet, he gently lifted her chin from his shoulder and looked into her eyes.  
  
"You alright now?" he asked, kissing her forehead.  
  
She nodded, nuzzled into his chest, and drifted back to sleep.  
  
Some time later, John laid her back down and got up to leave. Both Bobby and Logan were gone. When he reached his bedroom, he palmed the handle.  
  
Suddenly, he noticed light seeping through three perfectly-spaced slits in the door, slightly left of center, right in front of his heart. He traced his fingers over them and sighed to himself, "Shit."  
  



	7. Revealing

Revealing  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters June 1, 1997, 9PM  
  
Buffy had spent most of the last few days behind closed doors with Charles Xavier. Well, she was in his office. Sometimes he was there. Sometimes he wasn't. And Ok, hiding, she admitted to herself. She just didn't want to go through it again. She had hoped to have a nice, quiet, uneventful visit to New York – a little shopping, a little slayage, maybe even a summer fling with a cute boy. She didn't feel like being explain-y girl. She didn't want to see her cousin's face when he heard about the diminished Slayer lifespan. And when he'd found out that she had died, well, that would be every flavor of fun.  
  
Now she was sitting at a table with Xavier, Logan, Ororo Munroe, Kurt Wagner, Scott, John, Bobby, and Marie. Giles and Angel were expected any minute. They'd left Sunnydale for New York on a train a few nights earlier.  
  
"What's this all about, Buffy? What are we all doing here? Are you a mutant, too?" Scott asked impatiently.  
  
"Just wait, Scott, just a few more minutes until everyone is here," Buffy sighed.  
  
"Who are we waiting for?" he asked, concern crossing his face for the first time.  
  
Suddenly, Buffy stood and looked toward the door. "Here they come."  
  
A few seconds later Angel strolled through double doors, followed quickly by Giles, who carried several volumes of ancient leather books. As soon Angel's eyes connected with Buffy's, electricity sizzled between them.  
  
"Buffy," he said, as he lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back. A wry grin crossed his face, "I didn't expect to see you so soon, but it's... always a pleasure."  
  
Across the table, both John and Logan sat up a little taller. Logan tightened his fists beneath the table as Angel squeezed her hand gently before releasing it and withdrawing slightly.  
  
Giles reached her side next. He laid his books down on the table, pulled up a chair, and sat down between Buffy and Angel. Angel pretended not to notice. Instead, he smiled graciously at Marie on his other side, as he moved over to accommodate Giles and sat down in the last remaining seat.  
  
Giles turned to his Slayer. "Buffy, Willow told us that you were injured. Are you alright? Is everything healing as it should be?"  
  
"I'm fine Giles," she said. "Let's just get this over with...we have demons to hunt tonight."  
  
"Demons?" Bobby cried, voicing the surprise evident on the other mutant's faces.  
  
Professor Xavier raised his hand to stop the outbreak of questions. "Let's do introductions first and save questions for the end, shall we?"  
  
Introductions were exchanged and Giles began with, "In the beginning the world was covered in darkness. Demons of every imaginable size and variety roamed the earth..." and he ended with, "and therefore, Sunnydale, California, was known as the Boca del Infierno, or Hellmouth. It has been foretold that in the end days a Slayer would be called to guard the Mouth of Hell, thus defending this world against the incursion of evil, or in other words, to prevent an apocalypse. For almost a year, Buffy has been doing just that."  
  
All eyes were riveted to Angel when the discussion turned to vampires and he revealed his true face. He stood in front of the mirror and everyone was shocked by his lack of reflection and embarrassed that they had not noticed earlier. He explained what it felt like to be a vampire, from the satisfaction derived by drinking blood to the effects on his conscience, before and after the restoration of his soul.  
  
Later, when Giles confessed that few Slayers lived to see their twentieth birthday, Buffy thought she could hear metal scraping underneath the table in front of Logan. She looked around. All of the mutants seemed to be pretending not to hear it. After Giles finished, the group took a break and Buffy promised to answer all of their questions when everyone returned.  
  
Logan stood and walked to the window. Pulling it open, he dragged a cigar from his pocket, lit it, and sat on the sill. Buffy came up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Are you Ok?" she asked, knowing what the answer would be.  
  
"I don't like the idea of you fighting for your life every night," he whispered.  
  
Before he could react, Buffy pulled the sizzling cigar from his mouth and tossed it out the window. Wrinkling her nose, she scolded, "Ok, first of all, smoking... ewww!"  
  
He grinned ruefully at her and shrugged.  
  
Buffy continued, "Second, you sound like Scott." Logan grimaced and Buffy smiled. "I need you to be my friend, Ok? No lectures. I have other people covering that job."  
  
Then she sighed and conceded, "It's hard. Sometimes it's very hard. But if I don't go out, people die. If I don't go out, my friends and family could be next."  
  
Logan nodded once to communicate his understanding and led her back to the table where everyone was waiting. Giles and Xavier turned to Buffy expectantly. She nodded, "I'm ready. Ask me questions."  
  
Scott said, "Isn't there someone else who could do this? How can you be so cavalier about risking your life? What does Aunt Joyce think of all of this? I can't believe she lets you be the Slayer..."  
  
Angel stood abruptly, stepped behind Buffy, placed his hands on her shoulders and said, "Cavalier? She's died once already. No one knows better than Buffy the outcome of slaying..."  
  
"Angel, it's alright," Buffy said, covering his hands with hers. "Scott, you're scared. I get that. I'm scared most of the time too... But I am the Slayer. No one else can do it because I was the one called. I was handed the Slayer package. For whatever reason, the Powers that Be have chosen me."  
  
Sitting next to Xavier, Kurt nodded as if in agreement, and Buffy leaned forward slightly. "I didn't ask for it. I've resented it, fought it, and ran from it, but that's the bottom line."  
  
Pausing momentarily to take a deep breath, Buffy looked away then returned her cousin's steady gaze. "As far as Mom goes, she doesn't know. I mean, she must know that I'm different, but she's not ready to deal yet. Almost every night I come home with rips and blood and demony goo on my clothes. I'm perpetually bruised and scratched. She can't not know. But she gets to keep the illusion that I'm living a normal life for as long as possible."  
  
Scott began shaking his head, but before he could speak she lowered her voice an octave and said, "Besides, you don't live at Casa de Summers, Sunnydale. You don't get a vote."  
  
Scott nodded, "I still don't like this, but..."  
  
Then Kurt interrupted, "Vhat did he mean, you've died once already? Vere you somehow resurrected?"  
  
Angel sat back down and said, "There are many books of prophecy about the Slayer. One of those books, the Codex, is the most accurate. Giles asked me to find it for him, and I did. Buffy's death was predicted. We tried to avoid it, but there was no other way to stop the Master. Buffy went to challenge the Master and was drowned. Xander, one of Buffy's closest friends and I found her. Xander revived her with CPR."  
  
Ororo asked, "I have a few questions, like, who is this Master? Also... Buffy, you said you were called. What does that mean exactly?"  
  
Buffy smiled, "Giles, you want to take those?" Ororo turned to him and waited.  
  
Giles coughed and blushed slightly under the intense scrutiny of the stunning Ms. Munroe. "Erm... the Master was an ancient, powerful vampire set on bringing hell to the Earth. Buffy vanquished him a few weeks ago. As for the calling... well, you see, there are literally hundreds of young women all over the world who are born with the potential of becoming the Slayer. The Watcher's Counsel, the organization with which I am affiliated, refers to these girls as Potentials. We are responsible for locating these potential Slayers, and the most likely candidates are trained and prepared for life as a Slayer. Buffy's calling was not predicted, so she was not removed from her parents at birth and trained from childhood. However, she has proven to be a most resourceful and determined fighter." 

Turning to Buffy, he smiled warmly, "She's done an amazing job and is one of the finest young women I have ever met."  
  
Buffy smiled back, "Flattery is always a good."  
  
Marie spoke up next. "Buffy, you mentionned the Slayer pahckuge. Whut does thaht mean?"  
  
"When I became the Slayer, I changed. I grew stronger, faster, more agile. Early on, I didn't notice, but when my first Watcher, Merrick, began my training... he threw a knife at my face. I caught it." Marie blanched and Buffy grinned at her reaction. "He was trying to make a point, trying to convince me that I was the Slayer... Then the dreams... I started having crazy scary dreams about monsters and blood and death..."  
  
"Prophetic dreams," Giles clarified.  
  
"Also, when I concentrate, I can sense when vampires and other demons are nearby. That's how I knew that Angel was here before he walked through the door."  
  
Bobby asked, "Where is your old Watcher now? Is he retired?"  
  
Buffy lowered her eyes. "He died protecting me."  
  
Xavier said, "It's getting late, perhaps those of you with additional questions can hold them until tomorrow? Is that alright with you, Buffy?"  
  
Buffy nodded.  
  
"Also, I believe you wanted to take advantage of Mr. Giles and Angel's presence here?" Xavier asserted.  
  
She stood, and pushed her chair in. "Time to make with the carnage."  
  
"You're not going out tonight!" Scott shouted, and then as if surprised at himself, he lowered his voice, "you're injured."  
  
Buffy lifted the corner of her shirt to reveal perfectly smooth skin. "Not anymore."  
  
"Wicked!" John exclaimed appreciatively.  
  
With the exception of her cousin, who was just disgusted by the whole turn of events, every male eye in the room cleaved to her, disarmed by her flash of creamy skin. Buffy dropped her hand and strolled to the door. Without turning around, she asked, "Angel, Giles, coming?"  
  
As Angel and Giles joined her and stepped into the hall, Angel asked, "So after, you wanna go out? I saw a little club in town that looked fairly demon-free."  
  
"A post-battle pick-me-up?" Buffy grinned, "Not completely unheard of..."  
  
Later than night at Westchester's only worthwhile watering hole, Buffy and Angel finished up a slow dance. In the shadows, Logan watched, until an opportunity to step in arose. Buffy walked to the bar to buy another Coke, leaving Angel standing at a table near the exit.  
  
Logan set his jaw and approached.  
  
"Enjoying the view?" Angel asked.  
  
"She. Is. Not. For. You," Logan growled.  
  
"And I suppose you're the mutant of her dreams?" Angel retorted.  
  
"No. She deserves better than me. She deserves better than you. At least I'm not deluding myself about it," Logan snapped.  
  
"Aren't you..." Angel sneered and pushed past him. Then he stopped cold, and looked over his shoulder, piercing Logan with his gaze. "Not even late at night when you're alone in your room?"  
  
Logan tensed visibly and Angel smirked before walking toward Buffy, who was still waiting for her drink at the bar.  
  
"That's what I thought," Angel whispered.  
  
(end chapter)  
  
Please review! Please review! 


	8. Burning Both Ends

Burning Both Ends  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
August 15, 1997 5PM  
  
Buffy had been working out in the school's gymnasium for about an hour. Not much in the way of challenge as it didn't hit back, but the punching bag afforded her an opportunity to mindlessly bury herself in physical activity. She remembered how she didn't want to leave Sunnydale at the start of summer break, and smiled to herself when she considered how much she wished she could stay a little longer. She was truly sorry to have to fly out the next day. She had made friends easily among the students, and would miss Marie, Bobby and John most of all. With them, she allowed herself to pretend to be a normal teenage girl again. Well, as close to normal as she could feel while still patrolling vigilantly. Fortunately, there seemed to be a serious lack of demon activity in the metro Westchester area, so she felt comfortable doing a couple of sweeps just outside the campus, then meeting Marie in the kitchen for sweet iced tea and girl talk every night.  
  
At first she didn't hear Logan come into the gym, but was pulled from her reverie at the sight of him passing shirtless in front of her mirror. He wore navy sweatpants and was barefoot, which was probably why she didn't hear him, she reasoned. Without a word he crossed the room to the free- weight area by the window, set his weights and began lifting.  
  
Sunlight poured over his skin, playing over the curves and angles of his shoulders and upper arms. As he pulled the weight-leaden bar up to his chest and slowly released it, she marveled at the tightly corded muscles flowing out from his spine. Her eyes drifted down the subtle arc between his upper and lower back. She licked her top lip and wondered what he tasted like, and what might happen if she licked and nibbled back and forth across the flat plane between his hips just above his waistband.  
  
Buffy punched the bag harder, faster, as she imagined the texture of his skin under her hands, against her breasts and stomach. Scorched by her imagination, she took her eyes off of him and alternated between rapid punches and kicks in various combinations.  
  
"Hey kid, you Ok?" Logan asked, as her last kicked tore the bag from its chain and propelled it several feet away.  
  
Buffy smiled, "Uh yeah, just got a little carried away."  
  
"Mmm-hmm, sure did," he mocked, as she sat down on the mat and picked up her towel.  
  
Wiping her sweaty face and neck, she asked, "Is that hard to learn?"  
  
"What, weight lifting? Don't you train with weights?" he wondered aloud.  
  
"No. Giles - well, all Watchers I guess, are very old school – like twelfth century old school. We spar. I run. That's about it."  
  
"You wanna try?" he inquired casually.  
  
"Sure," she shrugged, "couldn't hurt."  
  
Logan set down his bar and motioned for her to come closer. "Ok, first of all. You have to really focus on what you're doing to get the full benefit of weight training."  
  
Picking up the bar he was using earlier, he instructed her, "Stand up straight and use the mirror to help you maintain alignment. As you raise the bar, think about the muscles that are engaged and add resistance from the opposite side, like this," he said, demonstrating the motion. "I'm pulling down with the top of my arm as the underside pulls the weight up. And don't forget to exhale when you lift the bar, inhale when you lower it... got it?"  
  
Buffy swallowed nervously, "Yeah, I think so."  
  
Logan took her hand and maneuvered her in front of him. "Pick up the weight and give it a try." As Buffy began lifting, he moved closer behind her until his chest was skimming her back.  
  
That's it, nice and easy," he coached, "You should focus here." Softly, he ran his palms over the front of her upper arms. She shivered slightly at his touch, and again moments later as his breath brushed against the back of her neck. "You're doing great," he offered enthusiastically, and Buffy turned her face to return his smile. As she did, her hair and ear slid across his cheek, her lips mere inches from his. Buffy held her breath as his lips slowly closed the magnetic gap between them.  
  
"Buffy girl, are ya in here?" Just before Marie came barreling through the door, Logan jerked backward. Buffy dropped the weight like it had bitten her.  
  
"Hey Logan!" Marie called, "Y'all workin' out togehtha?"  
  
"We.. uh... we just finished," Buffy stammered.  
  
"Well, come on then. John's gotta a surprise for ya. Time to get ready!"  
  
"Uh... yeah.... Ok," Buffy agreed as she picked up her towel and followed Marie out the door, careful not to look back.  
  
After they had gone, Logan walked over to the window and braced his hands against the sides. Taking a deep breath he stared out into the garden, eyes unfocused. He stood there for a few minutes and then dragged himself off to the gym showers.  
  
Down the hall, Marie remarked, "Mmm-mmm-mmm, has that boy got tha bod or whuht?"  
  
"Huh?" Buffy asked as they entered her room.  
  
"Ah-oh Buffy's got the disease."  
  
"Again I say, huh?" Buffy asked, turning on the shower.  
  
"Professor Logan-itis. You got it bad. Ah've seen all the sighns. Ev'ry girl on this floor's had it at one time or annother. Ah wondah if he'd wawlk to and from the gym half-drehssed if he knew how many girls wahntah'd to take a bite outta him. Ah had the disease for positively ever. Ah even usedta have this reoccurin' dream about him slicing through my clothes with his claws." Buffy had heard about his claws from Marie and the boys, but she had never seen them, nor had she thought about them in that way before. Shock stole across Buffy's face for a few seconds, then she and Marie broke out in a fit of giggles.  
  
Marie continued, "Don't worray honey, this disease is tempohrary. Bobby's helped meh make a full-recovahry."  
  
Buffy sighed dramatically, "Ok... so he's chocolate-dip-able."  
  
Marie opened Buffy's closet, then grinned conspiratorially over her shoulder, "With a big 'ol cherreh on top!"  
  
While Marie selected several outfit options, Buffy finished her shower, hair, and makeup. Finally, she settled on a pale yellow t-shirt, jean shorts and leather thong sandals. After much primping, the girls walked downstairs and out the front door at thirty minutes to sunset. Standing at the garden gate, Bobby and John waited impatiently.  
  
"You ladies look lovely," Bobby remarked as he kissed Marie's gloved hand. Offering Buffy his arm and a kiss on the cheek, John led her out into the open stretch of grass and down to the lakefront. Marie and Bobby trailed behind.  
  
Buffy never saw the curtains on Logan's bedroom window flutter and still as she passed out of sight.  
  
At the lake, Buffy laughed when she saw the two sets of lounge chairs that had obviously been liberated from the pool deck. Between the two sitting areas, a blanket, CD player, and picnic supper had been laid out with a cooler full of sodas. Tiki torches had been lit every twenty feet around the edge of the lake. The torch flames and the setting sun reflected muted yellows, oranges, pinks and reds on the surface of the water.  
  
John nudged Buffy's arm, "So, what do you think? Are you impressed?"  
  
Buffy responded quickly, "Very... very-very even."  
  
John slid his hand down her arm, grasped her hand, and brushed his lips across it. "Are you hungry yet, Buffy?"  
  
A few hours later, Buffy realized that she was having a wonderful time. She was sitting on the picnic blanket with John's head in her lap, toying with his hair. Marie and Bobby were laying in one set of the lounge chairs, holding hands and looking at the stars. The four of them had danced to Buffy's Bronze mix, played a modified version of touch football, eaten outrageously fattening picnic food, and watched as John orchestrated a complex and breathtakingly beautiful fireworks display using the fire burning in the torches.  
  
Buffy leaned over and kissed John's forehead gently. "I don't want this to end," she sighed.  
  
"Stay with us. Everyone likes you. I'm sure Professor Xavier would let you. You'd finally be safe..." John whispered as he pulled himself into a seated position.  
  
"I wish I could, but it's impossible..."  
  
"You could stay if you really wanted to. Obviously, you don't," John shouted, stood up, and stalked off toward the woods.  
  
"Man, what's the matter with you?" Bobby called. But John had already disappeared into the trees.  
  
Buffy turned to meet Bobby's eyes. "Should I follow him?" she suggested.  
  
Bobby settled back down and Buffy walked over to sit at the foot of Marie's lounge chair. "Nah, he flares up, then he's over it. Let him cool off. If he's not back in fifteen minutes, we'll go get him."  
  
Suddenly, they heard John yelling. Buffy had just reached the tree line when he burst forth, nearly knocking her down. He ran past, then swung around next to her. Several vampires raced to catch up, and Buffy slipped gracefully into a fighting stance.  
  
"No heroics! Get back inside the school," Buffy yelled. "Vampires can't enter a home unless they're invited." But Marie, Bobby, and John seemed to be frozen in place.  
  
"I've got your backs!" Buffy shouted and stepped in front of her friends, letting them see her pull a stake from beneath the back of her shorts. "Now go. Go!"  
  
As they ran, John, Bobby, and Marie heard a deep voice filled with vicious delight say, "Slayer..."  
  
Buffy launched herself at the first vampire and the others took attack positions all around her. As a result of her training and experience, something clicked inside her head, and she slid into the fight like easing into a hot bath. Time slowed to a crawl and every move was efficient and effortless. But something tickled at the back of her mind. Something was different. After she had dusted the first three, she felt rage begin to stir in the pit of her stomach. It rose like acid up her throat. Someone was talking near the gate but she couldn't stop to listen. Hoping fervently that her friends were safe inside, she pressed on, determined to protect their escape at all costs.  
  
Then the rage exploded through her head and oozed all over her body.  
  
"Wow... she's...she's so..." Scott began, as the crowd of students and staff pushed him forward a little. He glanced back toward the house. It seemed the entire school was out on the lawn, watching Buffy fight. When the hell had that happened? He wiped his hand over his face. He must have really been absorbed in watching Buffy.  
  
"Magnificent," Logan whispered to himself.  
  
"She's completely fucking amazing!" John shouted enthusiastically, and then realized Professor Xavier was beside him, "Oh... sorry, Professor."  
  
"It's alright, John. In this situation, I think you are correct... She is quite spectacular." Then the Professors' face fell, "But something is... wrong..."  
  
Buffy started to shout.  
  
She hollered and screamed in sync with her fighting. Every punch, kick, swipe, and thrust of her stake forced another word from her. Those around her could do nothing but stare in wretched, humbled shock and sadness. They could do nothing, so they waited for the storm to pass.  
  
"Why. Can't. You. Just. Leave. Me. Alone. I. Am. Sick. To. Death. Of. This. Sick. To. Death. Of. Bleeding. Sick. To. Death. Of. Falling. And. Getting. Back. Up. Again. I. Just. Wanted. To. Rest. You. Filthy. Evil. Bastard. Every. Time. I. Have. A. Little. Something. Good. You. Come. Along. And. Shred. It. I. Hate. You. I. Hate. You. I. Hate. You. I. Hate. Hate. You. I. Hate... I... I..."  
  
Buffy stumbled. She was momentarily unbalanced by the empty space in front of her. There was nothing left to beat, nothing left to kill. Tears began to gather at the back of her throat, cutting off her air. But she wasn't ready to cry just yet. She felt, rather than heard someone approaching her from behind. Whirling around, she stopped within an inch of staking her cousin. Realizing what she had almost done, Buffy dropped the stake in horror.  
  
He tried to pull her into an embrace, but she grabbed him with trembling hands and held him apart from her. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, took a deep, shaky breath, and said, "No... just... just don't..."  
  
Then she pushed past him, and her vision shifted. She noticed for the first time that she had an audience. Shame cut through her like a knife, but she could not cry, so she did what came naturally.  
  
She ran away as fast as she could.  
  
Before she reached the front door, she heard someone ask, "How many vampires were there?" but she didn't wait to hear John's reply.  
  
"Fifteen, " he said. "There were fifteen when she started."  
  
(end chapter)  
  
Please, please review. 


	9. Empty

Empty  
  
7th Street Bus Station, Los Angeles 

May 5, 1998 2 AM  
  
Buffy hadn't spoken to Scott in nine months. But he had to let her come. Those were the rules. That's what family did. They took you in when no one wanted you and you had no where else to go.  
  
She dropped the coins into the phone. She pressed five buttons before hanging up. The quarters fell into the coin return. Way to go, Buffy, she thought as she gathered the money and shoved it into her pocket. You made it to five this time.  
  
Maybe I should go back to the bench and try to sleep until sunrise, she wondered dazedly.  
  
It had been a long time since she'd slept. The bus station was hot. The bench was hard. She'd stabbed the love of her life in the chest and sent him to hell. None of these things were conducive to a good night's rest.  
  
Pressing her forehead to the back of the payphone's receiver she tried to give herself a pep talk. Come on Buffy, she thought, just press ten little numbers and you'll have a dry, clean place to sleep tonight.  
  
That didn't seem to work. Opting for the bench, Buffy turned and took three steps forward before the phone began to ring. Her body on auto-pilot, Buffy answered the phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
A warm, familiar voice said, "Buffy, it is Charles Xavier. Stay where you are. We've had a hard time finding you, but I've sent Scott and Ororo to come for you in the jet. They should be there soon."  
  
Buffy managed a weak, "Ok," before collapsing to the floor in a dead faint.  
  
(end chapter)  
  
Reviews keep me writing :) 


	10. Comfort and Torture, Help and Harm

Comfort and Torture, Help and Harm  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
May 8, 1998 8 PM  
  
Puffing on his cigar, Logan stalked up and down the hallway outside the infirmary. It had been three days since Buffy was found in the dingy LA bus station. When Giles had called to advise them that she had run away and to beg Xavier to find her with Cerebro, Logan had known better than to ask to be on the retrieval team. The others would have seen right through him. Ororo had gone with Scott. Kurt had wanted to go as well, but he would have drawn too much attention. Scott and Ororo needed to move fast in case Buffy tried to evade them. They were fairly certain that she was still in California, so the jet was more than halfway there before Xavier signaled with the exact coordinates.  
  
Logan was waiting just outside the hanger door when Scott carried Buffy in from the plane. She looked so young, wearing overalls, with one of the Xavier School blankets tucked around her. She looked exhausted too, and fragile. Ororo, disgust obscuring her normally gentle features, had told him that they had found Buffy lying in a heap on the floor next to the phones. She had obviously been there for some time. No one had bothered to try and help her.  
  
She was awake now. Scott had gone in over three hours ago. It tore at Logan to hear her sobbing through the door, and it had taken every ounce of his formidable determination not to run in there. She had been crying off and on throughout Scott's visit and Logan fought down the desire to listen to their conversation. It would have been easy enough, but it would have been wrong. She would see him when she was ready. His sense of right and wrong was damned inconvenient sometimes, he thought.  
  
Also, what could have happened to her? Where the hell was Angel? Willow? Xander? Giles? Or her mother, for that matter? How had she made it all the way to LA with no car and no money? How had she survived for three days and two nights away from family and friends with demons out there, not to mention the human predators preying on young girls in big cities? He didn't even want to think about that.  
  
He inhaled deeply and the scent of her tears caused his claws to flutter in and out. Take another deep breath. Relax, he thought. Buffy is a fighter and a survivor. She's made it this far. She'll be alright.  
  
What the hell is taking so long?  
  
Suddenly, the infirmary doors slid open and Scott stepped out.  
  
"Well?" Logan demanded.  
  
"Ah man, she's been through the ringer, hung out to dry, then put through it again. I need a good stiff drink, possibly two, and then I'll tell the team everything."  
  
"Fine, let's go. I'll pour," Logan asserted.  
  
An hour later, Scott had brought Logan, Ororo, Kurt and Xavier up to speed on Principal Snyder, Spike and Drusilla, Angel/Angelus, Kendra, the murder investigation, Joyce's ultimatum, Acathala, and finally, Angel and the portal to hell. Charles Xavier leaned back in his chair and sighed.  
  
"Despite the trauma in her life, Buffy's mind is stronger than it was this time last year, no doubt as a result of her continuing growth as a Slayer. However, so profound is her grief and confusion, that she is terribly vulnerable to depression and despair right now. If we all agree that it is in her best interest to stay with us this summer, and that we are willing to shield her from the authorities..." Xavier paused, waiting until all of the members of the group nodded in approval, "then we must commit to creating a supportive environment for her. Also, we must keep her secrets from the other children. She will tell them when she is ready."  
  
Logan asked, "How long before we can see her?"  
  
"I think it would be best to wait until she is settled in her room..." Xavier began, then he tilted his head slightly and continued, "which she seems to be doing now... despite the fact that I told her to stay in the infirmary for a few more days." Xavier chucked, paused again, then said, "She says she'll stay in bed. She wants to rest a little longer."  
  
Xavier averted his eyes for a moment, and then smiled. "She also says that she knows she's feeling sorry for herself, but she just can't face John or Bobby quite yet. She has asked that Marie visit her tomorrow afternoon, after classes are concluded for the day. And Logan... she's agreed to see you now."  
  
Logan was out the door and down the hall before Xavier could finish his comments. Continuing, he smiled inwardly, "Ororo, Kurt, why don't you wait until tomorrow morning before you go see Buffy? We don't want to overwhelm her."  
  
Logan ran all the way to her door, but hesitated just outside. Shoving his hands in his pockets nervously, he consciously slowed his breathing for a few minutes. From inside, he heard music playing softly, and then Buffy called to him, "Logan, is that you?"  
  
For a few seconds, Logan pressed his forehead against the wood of her door; then he smiled his most charming smile and opened the door.  
  
"Hey kid."  
  
Buffy managed a small grin, "Hola, my friend." Because that's what he is, she reminded herself. He's a strong, sexy friend who also happens to have muscles that strain the seams of his clothes. Maybe he should wear fewer clothes. No! No! Bad Buffy!  
  
Damn but she was adorable! She wore oversized white and navy pinstriped men's pajamas. Maybe Scott's, he thought absently. And her hair was tucked behind her ears on both sides. He almost tripped over her duffle bag and backpack at the foot of her bed.  
  
He realized that he must have been staring when she asked, "Bed head bad?" She lifted both hands and fluffed her hair.  
  
"Nah, not to worry," he smiled.  
  
She moved over, and Logan sat down on the bed next to her. "How's my favorite Slayer?" he asked, searching her face.  
  
"Still breathing...you?" asked Buffy.  
  
"I'm good," he replied, and then a strage expression crossed his face.  
  
"How did you know it was me?"  
  
Buffy grinned a little. "Well, I knew you were coming. Professor Xavier let me know. Plus, I recognized the sound of your boots. Scott told me you were outside the room when we were talking earlier. I think he said you were 'stinking up the hallway'."  
  
She sniffed, then sighed, feigning deep disappointment, "You've been smoking again. Smoking is so not good."  
  
He smiled at her and shrugged nonchalantly.  
  
Picking up her hand, Logan cradled it on his lap. "Are you hungry? Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?"  
  
Buffy looked down. A single, silent tear slid down her cheek. "Yes. No...I..."  
  
"It's Ok," he offered, ducking his head lower to meet her eyes.  
  
"You know you can tell me anything, " he reminded her, as he wiped away her second tear with his thumb.  
  
Buffy shifted, laid down on her pillow, closed her eyes, and whispered, "All of this has been so surreal. I... I need someone... something to hold on to."  
  
Logan nodded, then pulled off his boots and tossed them on the floor. He laid down next to her and she immediately cuddled closer, laying her head on his shoulder. She wrapped an arm over his chest, pressed her long slender form against his side, and hugged him tightly. He gently placed one hand over her forearm and used the other to slowly massage her scalp and the back of her neck.  
  
Buffy began to shudder and her tears fell against his t-shirt. "I...I...k- killed him. I kissed him, shoved the sword through his heart, and let hell pull him down... I...I didn't know what else to do... You sh-should have seen his face. The confusion... the betrayal..."  
  
Logan sighed and nuzzled the top of her head, "You didn't have any other choice, baby."  
  
She lifted her head and looked deeply into his eyes, "I... I could have worked harder with Giles and Willow to restore his soul. I should have prepared better going in... researched, found other ways to stop Acathala... contingency plans..."  
  
Logan leaned down and kissed her forehead, "You did the best you could," he whispered, and kissed her nose, "Don't torture yourself..." Kissing the tears on her cheeks, he spoke against her skin "with what ifs." Buffy's breathing stopped as his lips hovered over hers for a moment, and then he dropped a soft kiss on her chin, his upper lip barely grazing her lower one.  
  
She inhaled again and yielded as he guided her head back to his shoulder with the hand still caught in her hair. "You should get some rest," he muttered, and she promptly fell asleep.  
  
Logan stayed awake for several hours, cursing himself silently for his momentary weakness. Jesus, he thought. I almost kissed her. She's just a little girl. I was an adult when I lost my memory seventeen years ago. She was just being born. She's young enough to be my daughter!  
  
Buffy moaned and threw a leg over his, pressing her hips forward into his side.  
  
For a few moments, Logan reveled in the feel of her warm curves. She doesn't feel like a little girl, though, he mused.  
  
But she is. She's just a baby, he acknowledged sadly.  
  
"Just a baby," he murmured before falling asleep.  
  
A few hours later, Logan woke, his clothes soaked with sweat. He glanced at the clock. The LED screen flickered 2:41 AM. He looked down. Buffy was draped over him. His arms were wrapped around her, one hand on her lower back and the other on her bottom. Her head was pillowed on his right pectoral, and she stirred, brushing her nose and mouth against him. Her breasts were squeezed against his ribcage and... ah Christ, her lower stomach cupped his stirring erection. One leg was alongside his and the other was bent, her knee resting on his thigh. She moaned and shifted her hips upward.  
  
Think about something else, he groaned inwardly. Think about the others. Think about Xavier... and... Scott asleep down the hall. Think about what would happen if Scott walked in right now. Scott would fry his ass to a crisp... and he would be right to do so. If their situations were reversed, he would kill Scott for sure.  
  
Then Buffy moaned and languidly rolled her hips again, and Logan decided that he would go to his death willingly, if only she would promise to never stop.  
  
Buffy was having the loveliest, most erotic dream. Logan was pressing kisses along her inner thigh. She shifted to accommodate him as he whispered words of love, beautiful words over her skin. She shifted again. As his face and body took another shape, she told him that she loved him. Then he rolled away and the dream faded.  
  
Logan stood outside her door and caught his breath.  
  
He needed a shower, but no longer a cold one. Whatever passion Buffy had stirred in him was extinguished the moment she spoke.  
  
"Angel," she'd said. "Angel, I love you."  
  
(end chapter)  
  
reviews = new chapters:) 


	11. Duck and Cover

ANs: Personalized AN's at the bottom:)

Writing, writing, writing like a mad woman. Right now, I'm finding that if I don't post chapters as soon as they're done, I lose focus. I don't think it will always be this way, it's probably just new writer immaturity. Eventually, I hope to be able to write a story completely, then post it leisurely so that y'all can really enjoy it. For now, please forgive my frantic pace.  
  
After going back and watching episodes in various seasons this weekend, I noticed a pattern. The more Buffy is isolated and in pain, the more obnoxious her behavior. Because it served their purposes, the show's PTB led us to believe that during the summer after Angel was sent to hell, Buffy walked around LA in a numb fog for three months. Well, that's a beautiful theory, but it's not particularly true to her character, nor is it very entertaining. I think we can all agree that season two was fairly rough on Buffy. In fact, I think she was crazy out of her head in pain at the end; she must have been, not to mention the fact that she's a teenage girl going through all that comes with that. Obviously, in this story, episode 3:1 will not have happened. She will simply return to her family as of 3:2. In episode 3:2, I found her behavior to be subdued and a little strangely submissive, so I've tried to lay the ground work for that here in the next few chapters.  
  
I'm sorry to do this to you, gentle readers, but for a few short chapters, here comes the Buffy we love to hate.   
  
Duck and Cover  
  
Westchester, NY May 11, 1998 10:30 AM  
  
John, Bobby, Buffy, and Marie sipped iced mochas at a café table in front of a local coffeehouse. Marie and Buffy were surrounded by several very full shopping bags. John had one bag. Bobby had two.  
  
"Remind me agahin why I agreed to ditch, Buffy," Marie asked, as a sheriff's patrol car passed by and Buffy pulled her black ball cap lower in front of her face.  
  
"Your unquenchable thirst for adventure?" Buffy replied with a smirk.  
  
Marie rolled her eyes.  
  
Buffy laughed. "No? How about a compulsive drive for wardrobe expansion? I know that's why I'm here." Buffy sighed, "The sale signs... the window displays... the beautiful music of a credit card going through." She smiled ruefully, "It's an itch. And I must scratch it."  
  
Marie seemed to be seriously considering this theory. "Well, yes..."  
  
Bobby nudged her. "But..."  
  
"Oh yeah... mah point is, don't ya think we should be gettin' back? Not to sound pahrahnoid. But, that whas a little too close."  
  
"Go back now? Why would we want to do that?" John asked, baiting Marie.  
  
Bobby answered, taking up for his girl, "Do the words: Buffy, murder suspect, and serious slammer time, mean anything to you?"  
  
Buffy shrugged, "I'm not all that worried. I don't know why Xavier is. It wouldn't be the first time."  
  
Bobby, visibly startled, asked, "You've been accused of murder before?"  
  
Buffy laughed. "Go to jail. Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Arson. Felony, last time I checked."  
  
John smiled boyishly and kissed her cheek. "I knew I liked you for a reason." Then, pulling back, he shrugged, "I just couldn't remember what it was."  
  
Buffy punched him playfully.  
  
John winced and rubbed his arm. "Oww! Easy there, big Slayer."  
  
"Suhbject change. Somebohdy. Please."  
  
Bobby rubbed his girlfriend's shoulder, and with a teasing grin said, "Only this once."  
  
John picked up his cup, swirling the chocolate concoction before taking a sip. "Anybody see Professor Logan this weekend?"  
  
"Logan? No, I heard he took Scott's Buell and went into the city." Turning to Buffy, he explained, "He does that sometimes... just takes off..." Pausing, Bobby contemplated the table for a minute, "ever since Dr. Gray..."  
  
"Scott's fiancée, you mean?" Buffy asked, plainly startled.  
  
"Yeah," said Marie sadly. "Logan knew they were engahged, but he jus' couhldn't help himself. Fell hopelehssly in love with her."  
  
Buffy shrugged. Her face turned cold for a moment. "Love equals crazy."  
  
"Speakin' of crahzy," Marie said, as she stood, took Buffy's hand in her gloved one, and pulled Buffy to her feet. "We'd be crahzy to hang out here any lohngah."  
  
Buffy smiled, "Ok, Ok." Then lifting up her bags, she said, "Back up the trunk."  
  
A few hours later in Professor Xavier's office, Buffy was beginning to suffer buyer's remorse. Although, she mused, the little red dragon dress might just be worth the first forty-five minutes of the lecture she was presently ignoring, after getting caught sneaking back in to the school.  
  
"Buffy, are you listening to me?" Scott hollered.  
  
Buffy looked up at Scott, then behind him at Xavier, Ororo and Logan. Nodding, she said, "Mmm-hmm. Bad Buffy. Buffy bad."  
  
Scott just groaned and turned to look at the window.  
  
"Buffy," Xavier began, "You must understand that when you left school grounds with the other students, you were endangering them, as well as yourself."  
  
Buffy sighed. "I get it. I got it. We're good."  
  
Xavier nodded. "Very well, you may go."  
  
Scott whirled around. "You can't be serious! When I was a student, you'd never let me get away with that crap."  
  
"Scott, Buffy's not a student. She's a guest. I think she understands, and will be more careful when making decisions in the future."  
  
Scott glared.  
  
Buffy groaned. "Scott, if you want me to leave, just say so. Otherwise, can we wrap this up? I have a wicked Mocha hangover. I'd like to go take a nap."  
  
"Fine."  
  
Buffy left the office and Logan trailed close behind. When she reached the stairs, she stopped on the second step and said, "What?"  
  
Logan grabbed her arm and turned her around, "You're acting like a selfish, spoiled brat, Buffy."  
  
"Am I?" she asked, lowering her eyes to his hand on her arm.  
  
"You are. And what's more, you know it."  
  
She pulled her arm out of his grasp. "Logan," she snapped, "Stay out of it."  
  
Buffy resumed her slow stroll up the stairs. After a minute, she called out to him, "Logan."  
  
"What?"  
  
Without turning around to face him, she continued, "If you ever touch me again without my permission, you'll be very, very sorry." 

(end chapter)

A La Sombra - shortie, longies, I just can't control it. Maybe once I have a few stories completed I'll get better at that. Sometimes I just need to shoot a little info to y'all, so I have short chapters. After chapter 13, I think I'll have something long again.

Wild 320 - Thanks darlin'! Here you go. I'm a huge fan of yours, so it means a lot that you decided to stop by:)

Tangled Junky - hey bebe! I know, as a reader I much prefer longer chapters. I just need to get this story out. for the past week or so, I've been writing on average 12-15 hours a day. I keep trying to take a break, but then a new idea comes or something inspires me and I'm back at it again. I hope that the quick updates make up for the shorties!

Traci - the next two chapters are for you. Thanks for helping me to refocus on the conflict in a kind and gentle way. I really appreciate it.

desiny-ruler - I know, right? Poor bebe, hopefully he won't have to suffer for too long. HA! Who am I kidding. I love the angsty broody boys:)

Anna - thanks, I'm trying to put in as much X-men as I know about, while blending the two worlds into one:)

Robin - I probably won't use Gambit as he's not in the films, but I wish I could... We share the same hometown, and boy, can I write me some Cajun dialect... oh well...

Lora - I love Angel, too, bebe. But this is definitely a Buffy/Logan pairing. Sorry ;)

Alexandra - Thanks so much! You're support makes me want to work even harder...:)


	12. A Bit of the Wild

ANs: Ok, this is for Traci, who asked me about developing the plot started in chapter one. Also, there's a tiny pun for the X-men comic fans. Hugs! sita:)   
  
A Bit of the Wild  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters 

June 27, 1998 10 AM  
  
As was his routine, Charles Xavier was in his office on Saturday morning working on his lesson plans. In the middle of preparing for the following week's Physics II courses, his private telephone line started to ring.  
  
He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then answered, "Rupert, how are things in Sunnydale?"  
  
Giles chucked over the line. "I'll never get used to that, Charles. It's uncanny."  
  
"Nevertheless, you have good news?" Charles prompted.  
  
"Yes-Yes, I do. The charges against Buffy have been dropped in Kendra's murder case. The last remaining obstacle barring her return to us has been overcome."  
  
"Well, that is indeed good news. I will inform her immediately. However, I would be surprised if she agrees with you regarding the last remaining obstacle. We have done all we can to help Buffy to heal emotionally, but she still has a long way to go before she is as she was before."  
  
Giles became agitated. "That may be, but she is needed here. The rumors about her absence began circulating amongst the vampires and sundry demons almost immediately after her departure. The death rate is rising. We are doing the best we can, but... we are not nearly as effective as she."  
  
Xavier sighed. "In good conscience, I cannot promise to communicate that part of your message to her. She needs more time. She's been through so much this past year. She has made some bad decisions recently, I believe in an effort to distract herself from the pain in her life. I think that if she were to return to you now, she might take foolish risks. In a dangerous place like Sunnydale, I'm afraid that she might get herself killed."  
  
"Well, if that's the case, we will do what we can until the end of summer. But she must return for the first day of school if she is to have any hope of swaying the school board in her favor."  
  
"I think that would be fine," Xavier said, relief in his voice. "On another matter, Giles, how well-versed are you in the fields of organic chemistry and biology?"  
  
"Hmmm...they aren't really my area of expertise, but I do have contacts in some of the science departments at UC Sunnydale. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Well, we've found something unusual in Logan's DNA. It was a project Dr. Jean Gray was working on that was never completed, and quite frankly, we're stumped."  
  
"Really?" Giles asked. "I'm intrigued. But surely there are better resources for solving this mystery. Why would you ask me?"  
  
"Let me start at the beginning. As you know, Logan was the subject of a series of experiments conducted by the government almost 18 years ago. From what we've been able to discover, it seems as if this experimentation was funded by the research and development department of the Pentagon, but that has yet to be proven, and most likely won't be for some time. We believe they were looking into the possibility of altering mutants to serve as 'upgraded' soldiers. When Logan arrived at the school, he acquiesced to a battery of tests conducted by Dr. Gray. In his Chromosome 13, there appears to be a series of blended genes. The total number of genes present in his Chromosome 13 is no different than any other human, mutant or otherwise."  
  
Continuing, Xavier said, "I have consulted several of the world's top authorities on biology, anatomy and organic chemistry. They all say the same thing. With our current technology, it is impossible to blend genes, and thus far, blended genes have been ruled out as a possible new mutation." Xavier paused again and looked out the window. "Consequently, the only hypothesis I have left is that somehow Logan has been exposed to magic."  
  
Giles gasped. "Magic! Oh... oh I see. And what is the genetic blend? Have you identified it's components yet?"  
  
"Homo Sapien and Canis Lupus."  
  
Giles gasped again. "My... my God! They've somehow replaced a few of Logan's genes with the exact same number of Werewolf genes? "  
  
"Yes. And Rupert, there's more."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"To be on the safe side, we gave Buffy a complete physical when she arrived, including some basic blood work. We were concerned about her health. She was absolutely exhausted. We discovered an abnormality and conducted additional tests. Rupert, Buffy's Chromosome 13 has the same genetic blend."  
  
For almost a minute the line was silent.  
  
Charles continued, "We haven't told them yet. Frankly, I don't know what to tell them. And until we have something conclusive..."  
  
Giles interrupted brusquely, "Send me a copy of everything you've got."  
  
(end chapter)  
  
More ANs: Before anyone gets upset, I am not saying that Logan and Buffy are werewolves. Just that a spell was done and they have tiny tiny werewolf pieces inside their cells. They aren't ever going to turn into werewolves at the full moon. The thing is, I researched wolverines a little, and essentially they are overgrown weasels - nothing remotely sexy about that. I choose to believe that the comic creators chose that name because wolves are mysterious and fierce, and the name Wolverine sounds better than The Wolf, The Wolfman, The Werewolf, etc. This may or may not be true, but it makes me feel better than the idea that they purposely set out to create a weasel-y character.  
  
Just go with it. All will be explained later.  
  
Please, please review! 


	13. Safe

ANs: Some might say that Buffy's channeling Faith in this one, but I see quite a few parallels between Faith and Buffy. There styles are different, sure, but underneath that there are so many similarities, based on the situation. Food for thought:) Also, still looking for a beta, y'all. Anyone? Anyone? If you see any serious spelling or grammar issues, please email me so that I can fix them, K? Hugs! sita:)

Safe  
  
Westchester, NY 

August 1, 1998 11 PM  
  
Buffy had been caustic and unpredictable for weeks. Logan had tried to get through to her. He'd tried to be patient. But each time he talked to her, it seemed to make her angrier than the last. He decided that she was safe enough during the day. After all, he thought, she was at the school surrounded by teachers and students; what's the worst that could happen? But at night she escaped the mansion and roamed all over town, looking for demons and vampires to kill, looking for absolution and peace in the destruction of servants of the dark. So he decided to follow her. He only wanted to keep her safe. He didn't have a plan to accomplish his goal, but he pursued it just the same.  
  
When she'd left the house wearing a tiny red scrap of silk and impossibly high heels, he knew he was in serious trouble. As was his habit, he let her go, waited fifteen minutes, then followed her trail. But this time it was the wrong thing to do. Too late he realized that she had arranged for a cab to pick her up. So he drove through the streets of Westchester for almost an hour, finally remembering the club where he had watched her dance with Angel.  
  
He got out of the car and walked into the place. They were fairly busy and he picked up traces of her scent, but she was not there. He decided to check out back in the alley. Maybe she was slaying tonight after all, he thought.  
  
When he stepped through the back door and looked down the alley, shock and fear locked his legs in place. For a moment, he couldn't move, couldn't breathe. She was almost two blocks away behind a grocery store, and she was allowing a vampire to bite her. The creature's teeth were almost touching her neck. Finally, it dawned on him, she was trying to die by putting herself in the hands of a killer. He started running. His heart pounded against the barrier of his ribs, as he ran as hard as he could. She was so far away. He knew he wasn't going to make it.  
  
At the last minute, she reached beneath her skirt, pulled a small stake from her thigh-high stockings, and dusted the vampire. Panting, he halted abruptly in front of her, grabbed her shoulders, and shook her. Looking into her eyes, he realized what had happened.  
  
Buffy was miserable and was trying to escape the pain, but nothing her subconscious tried had worked. She was completely drained and she just wanted it to be over. And suicide was a mortal sin. Without realizing it, on some level, she was trying to get into hell. She was trying to get to Angel. He grimaced. Her Slayer instinct for survival won the battle for her soul tonight, he thought.  
  
"Come to watch?" she accused.  
  
"I think you like to watch." She pushed him roughly back against the wall, then lifted herself up on her toes, slipped her fingers into his hair and pulled his lips down to hers.  
  
"I think you like to watch me," she whispered, brushing her lips slowly back and forth across his. Sliding her tongue over his bottom lip, she asked, "Do you like to watch me?"  
  
Logan was dizzy. Something was telling him that he had to get out of there. He shouldn't be there. She didn't really want him anyway. He licked the place where her tongue had been. It tasted faintly of bourbon.  
  
"Buffy," he began, but was quieted by her delicate tongue licking his lips again.  
  
"Buffy... Buffy, please. Please. My... God, you smell so good... No, we can't. Don't do this..."  
  
"Stop me," she muttered softly, grazing her face down his cheek and neck, kissing his clavicle, as she unbuttoned his top button.  
  
Then against the side of his neck, and just behind his ear, she kissed and tasted and whispered again, "Stop... me... Don't... Don't... stop... me. Don't. Stop. Me. Please don't stop me."  
  
Slowly, it registered in his mind there were tears on his skin, Buffy's tears. Buffy was weeping and kissing him at the same time.  
  
Damn, Logan thought. How did I get myself into this?  
  
"Shh... come on, Buffy. Let's go." Reaching down, he lifted her up in front of him. Automatically, she wrapped her arms and legs around him like a child, and he started walking toward the car.  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"I'm taking you home."  
  
When they arrived at the Mansion, Logan carried a sleeping Buffy all the way to her room. He laid her down on the bed and removed her stockings and shoes. Opening her chest of drawers, he found her night clothes. Then he slung them over one shoulder, lifted her up until she was leaning against him in a semi-standing position, and unzipped her dress. He eased the straps off of her shoulders and the dress fell to the floor. Forcing himself not to look, he slid the tank top over her head, then each arm and down her torso. He considered trying to put the pajama pants on her, but that didn't seem like such a good idea. He pulled back the covers and tucked her inside.  
  
Just as he turned out the lights, Buffy called out to him, "Logan?"  
  
"Yes," he said.  
  
"Stay with me?" she asked.  
  
"I don't think that's such a good idea. You've had a lot to drink and I..."  
  
Buffy interrupted, "Please Logan, I promise not to attack you." She rolled over and faced away from him. "Just stay?" she whispered.  
  
Too tired and worn to deny her, he undressed down to his boxers and tshirt, and slid between her sheets. Still facing away from him, she lifted up so he could slip one arm beneath her neck. Then, he wrapped both of his arms around her, and planted a soft kiss on her shoulder.  
  
"Logan?" she said.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"This is the first time I've felt safe in ages. Ice ages, even."  
  
He smiled against her hair, "I'm glad, baby."  
  
Both fell asleep almost immediately, and while Buffy's dreams were sweet for the first night in months, Logan's were troubled by images of captivity, the hiss and smell of molten adamantium, and the words 'He won't remember' playing over and over in his head.  
  
Then, he watched as Striker walked in to his cell. It was a small, cold, dark room. It was a cage.  
  
But instead of pain and torment, this time Striker brought him hope.  
  
"I have a little present for you, animal," Striker said, and he reached out and laid a small, soft pink blanket in Logan's hands.  
  
Logan pressed the fabric to his face and inhaled the most heady, softly feminine aroma. It was so sweet and spicy, he could almost taste it. There were a myriad of scents clinging to the fabric: detergent, powder, and the sweat and skin cells from Striker's hand. But underneath all of these, he found the one that appealed to him most of all. It was human, but not. It was like him.  
  
His voice was a little rusty from screaming for days at a time, but Logan managed to croak, "Mine?"  
  
"Yes. That's right," Striker smirked, jerking the blanket away from him. "We've selected a mate for you, mutant. She's a little young now... just a baby, really. But soon, if you're a very good boy, we'll arrange a little get together. You'd like that wouldn't you."  
  
Through the heaviness of sleep, he spoke to her. He whispered against her hair, "Buffy... Mine."

(end chapter)

Hate it? Love it? Let me know:) 


	14. New Friends, Old Ghosts

ANs: The longest chapter yet, six pages in Word single-spaced, although I've cheated. It's mostly dialog:) I can't make any promises yet about the length of the next one, so I hope everyone likes! 

Again, completely un-beta'd. If you know someone who might like to help, please let me know.

jamminkat9 - Danka bebe for your compliment and I hope you have fun with this one.

Ouatic7 - yeah sweets, there kind of is a big picture villian, but ulitmately the true villian is fate. However, there will be smaller battles along the way. As for AFF, I did start posting there, but there wasn't much in the way of smut in the story yet, so there wasn't much interest. I decided to take it off and focus on the readers here and at TtH. I usually update at TtH first, btw, because the writer's user panel is so much easier to work with. I can go in and edit in five seconds; whereas here, it's quite a bit more cumbersome. It just makes it easier for me to work out the kinks there, then post here. So if you or anyone else is interested in getting updates first, that would be the place to sign up for author alerts for this fic.

Lexi - thanks for the praise, and I'll try to fix the Strykers. I guess I was focused on other things and forgot how to spell it:)

Dilvish - thanks for the reminder about Sabretooth. That has potential for a mini-battle. Stryker did know that Buffy was a Potential sort of, and he has a loose understanding of the Slayer program and Watcher's Counsel. They are involved btw, as Quentin Travers orchestrated Buffy's, for lack of a better word, donorship, in the Soldier X program - see chapters 1 and 5, and also keep an eye out for chapter 16, as that will explain quite a bit. As to Scott's sense of humor, I'm sure he has a great one. But since I'm basing this as strictly as I can on the films, I'm a little limited. I'll try to flesh him out if I can, but I'm really focused on building something between Buffy and Logan, while invoking the muse of adventure, trying to stay true to central characters, and translating lines into Sunnydale speak. Whew! It's an uphill battle, let me tell you:) I'd like very much to read the comics (graphic novels) someday. Maybe after this story is over, I'll do just that, then write another one with more emphasis on the X-Men. I figured that since this catagory is Buffy x-overs, most people would be interested in and familiar with that world. I have ordered Peter Sanderson's X-Men Updated Edition, The Ulitmate Guide from Amazon to help this story along, and it should arrive in a few days. 

Damn! Am I babbling today or what? Hugs! sita:)

New Friends, Old Ghosts  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
May 25, 1999 9PM  
  
Buffy stood outside Logan's bedroom door. She had almost decided not to come to New York this year. While the defeat of the Mayor was a huge win, and most of the time she felt pretty good, all things considered, she was a little embarrassed about seeing Logan again. Her behavior last summer had been really awful, and she had thought about it and him quite a bit over the past several months.  
  
So she had gone to his room to apologize as soon as she'd arrived, rather than put it off. It seemed like a good idea as recently as fifteen minutes ago. But now, standing outside his room, she faltered. Would he even want to see her? Maybe she shouldn't have come. Waking up in his arms that morning almost a year ago had been wonderful and she couldn't, wouldn't regret that, but things had been so awkward the following day, and the X- Men had to avert an emergency after, so she wasn't able to say goodbye.  
  
Inside the room, Logan paced. Adrenaline had begun to speed through his body a few minutes earlier, and he couldn't determine the source. Suddenly, a familiar scent drifted in and he swayed a little. She's here, he thought, and she's anxious about something... Just relax, he chided himself. Don't blow this. Don't blow this. Don't blow this, he recited to himself as he approached the door.  
  
She lifted her hand, but before she could knock, the door swung away from her and Logan stood in its place.  
  
"Buffy!" he cried, as he picked her up and spun her around. Putting her down, he smiled, his eyes greedily basking in her presence.  
  
"I can't believe you're here," he said smiling, as he guided her to sit down on the edge of the bed. "Xavier said that you weren't coming."  
  
She's changed so much, he thought. She was slightly taller and her face was a little leaner, not that anything could have harmed her beauty.  
  
She had the most luminous skin. It absolutely glowed. Her hair glistened in the soft light emanating from his lamps. His eyes fixed on her pouty lower lip, and he remembered the texture and taste of her tongue. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was peel off all of her clothes and taste every inch of her. To be able to see her eyes and her smile after being so long apart was amazing and terrible at the same time; and her smell, he could get drunk on that smell, to have her so close and not be able to touch her was like serving time in the lowest level of hell. Looking away for a moment, he schooled his features. He couldn't let her see how she affected him. It would be disastrous.  
  
"Last minute change of plans," she explained. "Graduation commencement was, well, an apocalypse averted. Yay us! And so... I decided to come and spend the rest of the summer here with you guys."  
  
"Well, I'm very glad you did," he said, as he pulled her close and dashed a quick kiss on her forehead before releasing her.  
  
Looking around, she realized that she had never seen the inside of his room before. It was as attractively decorated as the rest of the rooms, but this one was different somehow. She inhaled deeply. His smell was everywhere. It was absolutely dee-lish. She'd missed it more than she realized. It was the sweetest drug to her senses: woodsy and darkly green, like vetiver and pine, like a run through the woods on a hot summer night.  
  
Logan felt uncomfortable for a moment as he followed her eyes around the room. She seemed to be taking stock of his space, and immediately he'd wished he'd known she was coming. What was she sniffing at, he wondered as he looked around. Had he left a pair of dirty socks on the other side of the bed? He wished that he had picked up a little more, closed the closet doors, made the bed, bought more pillows, and lit some candles – women liked pillows and candles, right?  
  
He walked to the bathroom doorway and picked up a towel from the floor. Relax, man, he thought. She's not moving in with you.  
  
Buffy laughed at him gently. "Logan, you don't have to do that for me."  
  
Just as he was about to respond, a young male voice yelled from the stairway, "Buffy! Come on, we're starving!"  
  
"Is there something you forgot to tell me?" Logan asked.  
  
Buffy smiled shyly at Logan. "Did I mention I brought back up?"  
  
Forty-five minutes later Buffy and Logan found themselves at Xavier's conference table with Scott, Kurt, and Ororo once again. But this time they were joined by a new Sunnydale delegation: Xander, Willow, and Oz. They were waiting for the arrival of Charles Xavier, who had received an urgent Fed Ex he needed to review. After the introductions were made, the room was uncomfortably silent as Buffy's two sets of friends faced each other for the first time.  
  
"So what's the fun around here," Xander asked, "and where can I get my hands on it?"  
  
"Xander!"  
  
"Buffy!"  
  
"Prioritize."  
  
"O... K... Does anyone know what I did with my DP?" he asked.  
  
"Did you know you do that a lot?" Willow frowned.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Leave your drinks around everywhere." Buffy answered.  
  
"Focused on saving the world here, guys. So what if I'm a little irresponsible with the beverages."  
  
"I think you left it in our room," Oz sighed, "Only not sure where that was, too many halls and stairs and doors ago."  
  
"Oh, I'll go get it," Buffy huffed, standing up.  
  
After she left the room, Xander leaned forward conspiratorially, "So, I guess you guys heard about Angel?"  
  
"Hey foot-in-mouth," Oz growled, "Zip it."  
  
"Yeah, Xan, Buffy's had a rough time," Willow reminded him. "I doubt she'd want you spilling her business all over these nice people."  
  
"What about Angel?" Scott demanded, visibly concerned.  
  
Logan tensed. Not that guy again. Angel must somehow be back, he surmised.  
  
"Hmmm... I wonder where Buff is with that DP..." Xander evaded clumsily. "It didn't seem to take us this long to get..."  
  
"Oh come on. Angel news? We thought he was dead..." Scott said.  
  
Xander smirked. "Is. Was. Has been for years. That's why we call him Deadboy..."  
  
"Yeah, and he likes it when you do that, Xander, a lot," Oz said smugly.  
  
"Although... seeing them slay together again was kinda cool. Perfectly synched," Willow said, looking at Oz dreamily.  
  
Oz lifted Willow's hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on her knuckles, "Just like us."  
  
Xander looked disgusted, "Ew. Thanks for the nasty visuals. No Angel synching Buffy talk, K?"  
  
"Xander!" Buffy cried, standing in the doorway as Xavier approached.  
  
"Sorry, Buff," said Xander, chagrined.  
  
"Buffy," Xavier said distractedly, "Why don't you introduce me to your friends, then you can tell us why you're all here."  
  
Buffy obliged, then began, "We're here because we were told by a Sunnydale snitch that a group of vampires is planning an attack on this school."  
  
Oz nodded, "Every vamp loves a party."  
  
"Is this a reliable source?" Kurt asked.  
  
But Xander interrupted, "Willy, the snitch? He is... when Buffy threatens him with lots o' breaks and sprains."  
  
Buffy glared, but continued, "I think so, but I didn't want to risk it. When I asked him where the usual Sunnydale crowd of vampires were, Willy said that they were going to try to turn some mutants at a school near Salem, New York. He also said that they were led by a vamp who could move himself instantaneously to another location miles away." Buffy paused and smiled at Kurt. "Knowing Kurt's gift, I figured this guy was a mutant."  
  
Xavier, clearly upset said, "A mutant vampire? To tell you the truth, I hadn't considered the possibility. I suppose I just assumed that most mutants would be able to avoid or fight off an attack."  
  
"Unless... they purposely sought a sire..." Buffy drawled, anticipating her friends' thoughts, "Some people have really weird ideas about vampires."  
  
"And how!" Xander agreed.  
  
Buffy looked at the ceiling for a few seconds, clearly thinking about the ramifications. "And the dark side would jump at the chance to get their hands on the mutant abilities running around this place..."  
  
"So we have a serious problem," Logan finished.  
  
Buffy shook her head, "Not too serious. Semi-serious. Serious-ish. All we really know for sure is that we may have some ordinary vampires and one who can move around a little bit easier, coming this way. But even if he can teleport, he still won't be able to get inside the school without an invite. Kurt, can you get with me later and tell me about any other limitations he might have? Also, Will, can you double up on security with some protection spells? Also, locator spell on this mutant-ish vamp?"  
  
Kurt and Willow nodded simultaneously, and then she shook her head. "Yes to the protection and No to the locator. I can't do it. Not without something that belongs to him... but maybe another spell... let me check my advanced books."  
  
"We don't want you to try anything too dangerous, Willow," Scott cautioned. "Buffy cares about you a lot."  
  
Willow tried her best to smirk, "Ha! Too dangerous? I scoff at danger. Danger runs screaming from me."  
  
"Danger's not the only thing."  
  
"Xander!" Willow and Oz said at the same time. "See what did I tell you?" Oz said. "We're perfectly synched, too."  
  
Buffy stood. "So we plan... we're at the planning stage? I volunteer for the recon."  
  
"Yeah, me too," offered Logan.  
  
When Xavier failed to acknowledge or comment on what had just been said, Buffy asked, "Professor? Are you alright?"  
  
Xavier turned to Buffy. "What? Oh yes... sorry. I've just received a package with some distressing information and I suppose my mind wandered a bit. I won't be able to help you locate these vampires with Cerebro I'm afraid. Telepathy only works on the living."  
  
"That's Ok," Willow said, "I think there's a spell to detect groups of demons within a fairly large radius. I'll see what I can do with that."  
  
Ororo smiled, "I'd like to help you with that if I can, Willow. I've never seen magic done." Willow grinned and nodded.  
  
"And I'll call Willy and threaten him with Buffy's eminent return, he may have heard something else" Xander announced.  
  
"Good... good. Keep me advised as to your progress. If all goes well, we'll plan on Buffy and Logan dropping in on these vampires tomorrow."  
  
After the meeting, Buffy went to look for Marie, John and Bobby. Logan pulled Xander aside.  
  
"So, you want to tell me about Angel?" Logan rumbled menacingly.  
  
Xander rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "What? Oh man, not you too. Isn't there a single guy on the planet who doesn't have a hankering for the Buffster?"  
  
"Nevermind about that, kid, just answer the question."  
  
"Whatever," Xander said, obviously disgusted with the topic. "Here's the deal. Angel got kicked out of hell and sent back to Sunnydale. But he was in a bad way. Buffy secretly helped him get back on his feet again, and he blew her off. Then, they're all with the smoochies. Led her to believe that he was going to take her to Prom, but instead, he broke up with her a few days later. Finally, a few weeks ago, Buffy goes to Prom stag and he shows up and messes with her head some more. Big finish with the Mayor at graduation and Angel bails. Heard he went to LA. I told her that he was only going to hurt her again, but did she listen? Oh no! What the hell does Xander know about getting jerked around?"  
  
Logan nodded numbly and Xander walked away. So Buffy was still in love with Angel. Logan sighed. She needed his friendship and support, but could he listen to her talk about Angel without putting his fist through the nearest wall?  
  
(end chapter) 

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	15. In the Ruins

ANs: Man I hate writing action scenes. If it were up to me, I'd write love scenes all day long. But that would be boring for you and no doubt eventually for me, too. Personalized ANs next chapter, I promise. Still desperately seeking a beta, sita:)  
  
In the Ruins  
  
Westchester, New York  
  
May 26, 1999 9 AM  
  
As it turned out, no spell was necessary once Buffy recommended that Xavier help Willow access the plans used by the local municipal water and waste departments. Only one decommissioned city building in the area had access to the town's sewer system. Currently, that building was used to house antiquated septic equipment and broken pipes until it was sold on scrap metal auction lots.  
  
On the east side of the building, Logan and Buffy quietly climbed up through a trash chute set at a 45 degree angle. The chute was easy enough to get through; but the fact that it was a trash chute did not go unnoticed.  
  
"Augh! God! This is the worst thing I've ever smelled in my entire life. Does it ever wash off?"  
  
Buffy laughed softly, then whispered, "Nope. Not to my satisfaction. Welcome to the glamorous world of vampire slayage, where every day means another aromatic traipse through the sewers."  
  
"Is there such a thing as death by stench?"  
  
Buffy motioned for Logan to be quiet. "Shh... I see the opening."  
  
They emerged on the second floor and listened carefully. They glanced over the side of a railing and found a room full of vampires two floors down. Realizing the vampires were in the basement, and that there was a gaping hole in the ground level floor, they crept back until they found a way to get closer without being seen. Descending a hidden set of stairs, around a corner from the opening, the conversation in the basement below became clear.  
  
"Here is the list of students to bring to me and their room assignments."  
  
Logan clearly recognized the voice, and Buffy looked at him questioningly.  
  
"Magneto," Logan mouthed, and Buffy's eyes grew wide.  
  
We will have someone on the inside who will grant you access to the school. It is vital that no mistakes are made," Magneto stated abruptly.  
  
"We know what to do."  
  
"Fine. I'll see you after," Magneto said, his voice becoming louder and then more distant as he levitated out of the basement and headed for the exit. "Oh, and Paul, eat before you go. If any of those children turn up dead before I give the word, there will be no place on earth you will be safe from me."  
  
Buffy risked a glance around the corner. "He's gone," she whispered.  
  
Then, another vampire spoke, "But Master, I heard that the Slayer is with them."  
  
Paul, obviously the mutant vampire snickered, "Leave the Slayer to me."  
  
A block away sat a seemingly abandoned old black Blazer. It was a school vehicle that, while still serviceable, had not been used in some time. Oz, Xander, John, and Bobby had spent nearly half an hour denting it, so that it would blend in to the background of dilapidated buildings on the street where it was to be parked.  
  
Inside the truck, Kurt and Scott were monitoring Buffy and Logan's situation. Waiting was starting to wear on Scott's nerves.  
  
"Do you think we should go in now?" he asked impatiently.  
  
"No, ve must not," sighed Kurt, "Ve must vait until the signal is given."  
  
"What if the coms are faulty?"  
  
"Ve tested all of the communication equipment before leaving the school. All is vell, or ve vould know it."  
  
"But what if..." Scott began.  
  
"Sshht!" Kurt interrupted. "Do you vant to get Logan and your cousin killed? Because if ve go in there now, that is vhat will happen."  
  
Inside the building, Buffy and Logan were trying to get back to the stairs, but they were cut off by a bevy of activity now on the main floor. Several vampires were bedding down for the day, bringing them increasingly closer to Buffy and Logan's position.  
  
Buffy whispered, "Should we call Kurt?"  
  
Logan shook his head. "Not yet."  
  
Suddenly, a vampire called out,"Master... I smell... fresh blood...."  
  
Buffy grabbed Logan by the hand and said, "Run for the exit as fast as you can! We just need to make it into the light."  
  
Forgetting about Kurt outside for a moment, they ran to the closest door, just as Logan reached the door, he heard a voice behind him say, "Goodbye, Slayer."  
  
Buffy was racing behind Logan as quickly as she could, jumping over pipes and fittings. Ten feet from the door, a powerful hand came from behind and gripped Buffy by the throat. Before she could react, Paul, the vampire mutant sneered, "Goodbye Slayer," and a pain worse than any she'd experienced laced through her back. She thought she heard someone yelling her name, then Kurt's, as she fell to the ground.  
  
She struggled to keep her eyes open and to pick herself up, but it was so hard to focus and she was so cold. The sound of battle was all around her and then everything went silent.  
  
A week later, it was after midnight and Logan was sitting at Buffy's bedside in the infirmary with Willow. Buffy had been stabbed by a knife dipped in liquid Brodifacoum, an anti-coagulant rat poison, and a hemorrhagic virus of some kind. While her body was eventually able to close the wound, she had spent several days in the hospital until the internal bleeding had stopped. She had been coherent enough to ask to be taken back to the manor, but Buffy's distressed immune system was still struggling with bouts of fever.  
  
Although Magneto's plan had been uncovered, Scott, Bobby, Ororo, Willow, Logan, John, Xander, Marie, Kurt, and Oz, were still alternating between bedside vigils and nightly campus patrols.  
  
Willow was exhausted, and her shoulders ached terribly. Standing up to stretch, she looked over at Logan, who was holding Buffy's hand.  
  
"Are you about ready to turn in?" Willow asked. "Xander and Oz will be here soon."  
  
"No, I'll stay with her a little longer. You go ahead."  
  
"You really like her don't you? This goes beyond friendship for you, doesn't it?"  
  
Logan glared at Willow, fatigue etched on his features, "Absolutely not. She's just a baby."  
  
Willow picked up her blanket and pillow and stood in front of Logan, frowning and nodding. The disbelief was apparent in her eyes. "A baby? I'll let you in on a little Buffy Summers secret. For the last four years, every happy moment Buffy's had has been overshadowed by something frightening and terrible. She's always taken care of us. We've tried to reciprocate, but it's been hard. Sometimes we've been oblivious and sometimes she's been stubborn. It would be nice to see someone really take care of her for a change. If you like her, you should tell her."  
  
Willow started to leave, then hesitated and placed her hand gently on his arm. "You should tell her, but only if you mean it."  
  
(end chapter) 


	16. Facts and Conclusions

ANs: This snippet is the letter that Xavier received before he went into the meeting with Buffy and the others in chapter 14, as you can see from the date. If, like me, you've wondered how the Watcher's Counsel finds potential slayers, here's one possibility that works with the rest of this story. You'll notice that the language is a bit formal. This was deliberate, based on the characters involved and the nature of the letter. Also, do any of the writers out there know how I can fix the spacing issues in the user panel? If so, please let me know. Personalized ANs at the end. As always, hope you're intrigued and entertained.  
  
Facts and Conclusions  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
May 25, 1999 9:40PM  
  
Charles Xavier rubbed his forehead, took a deep, cleansing breath, and focused on releasing the tension from his body. He passed his hand over the package from Sunnydale, picked up a piece of paper, and once more read the disturbing letter from Rupert Giles.

URGENT  
  
PERSONAL & CONFIDENTIAL  
  
Mr. Charles Xavier  
  
c/o Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters  
  
One Xavier Way  
  
Westchester, NY 12865  
  
May 24, 1999  
  
Dear Charles,  
  
I sincerely hope this letter finds you in the best of health. I feel that I must apologize for not sending this earlier; however, the situation in Sunnydale being what it is, I know you will understand.  
  
As a result of several years spent building a reputation as a dissolute youth, and a certain disregard for the strictest interpretation of the codes and decrees of my association, I had few allies in Watcher's Counsel. Since being relieved of my duty as Buffy's Watcher this year, most of my former contacts have disassociated themselves from me. However, I feel obliged to confess that I am not above resorting to blackmail, when Buffy's health, welfare, and happiness are at risk. After some persuasion, I have managed to obtain a portion of Buffy's file not usually provided to field employees.  
  
If you review the matrices and reports I've created, you will find: the biological criteria that the Watcher's Counsel utilizes to determine the identity of potential slayers, a genetic profile of what the Watcher's Counsel considers to be an 'ideal slayer', as well as Buffy's results at birth and at present.  
  
The criteria in matrix 1 have been developed over centuries of observation and study. It touches upon all of the attributes, which when combined, create a viable potential slayer. Matrix 2 takes these criteria and assigns values to them that meet the ideal level. In matrix 3, I have described all of the genetic markers present in Buffy's test from her file. And in matrices 4 and 5, I have compared Buffy's original results to the most recent and Buffy's most recent results to that of the ideal.  
  
Before I continue, please allow me to explain how this information is obtained. The Watcher's Counsel has paid informants in hospitals in every major city, who review and provide them with blood test results of likely female infant candidates, according to the most vital criteria set forth in matrix 1.  
  
In studying this material, I have some rather startling news. After comparing her original test results against those with which you have provided me, the variances are minimal in some categories, but together, paint a very different picture. Further, if you review the comparison between Buffy's current genetic composition to that of a 'perfect' slayer, you will see that in almost every respect Buffy surpasses what nature has led us to expect of the ideal.  
  
I have not yet been able to identify the spell. Unfortunately, my personal library and resources are quite limited. However, while Buffy is with you this summer, I intend to take a brief 'holiday' to England in order to obtain some of my father's more obscure spell and incantation books. I will bring them back with me to Sunnydale, where I plan to review them in earnest. I have plenty of time, as I am now without local employment as well, due to the destruction of Sunnydale High School, but more on that later.  
  
My conclusions are as follows:  
  
1. One or, most likely, more individuals within the highest echelons of the Watcher's Counsel are involved. As I mentioned, field employees would not have access to the files of Potentials. Also, it is possible, but unlikely, that a researcher or administrative employee could have been made aware of Stryker's secret project.  
  
2. The parties responsible are ruthless and no doubt dangerous. After all, they willingly submitted one of their sworn charges to a hazardous experiment, conducted by men whom we know to be without conscience.  
  
3. Had the spell not been cast, it is very likely that Buffy would not have been called as the Slayer.  
  
4. The parties responsible could not have predicted the eventual outcome of the spell, and as yet, they may not be aware of the result. If they were intending to create the perfect slayer as a side effect of the experiment, they would have ensured vigorous and vigilant attention to Buffy's training from an early age. Furthermore, knowing the Counsel as I do, it is likely that this spell would have been cast regularly through the years from its discovery, in order to manipulate the process.  
  
I will, of course, keep you informed of any future findings. Although I know I will live to regret this, I still believe it is too early to share what we have learned. As soon as I find the spell, we may want to reevaluate this decision depending on the possible long term effects to both Buffy and Logan.  
  
Please feel free to ring me after reviewing all of the enclosed. I am eager to hear from you.  
  
Respectfully,  
  
Rupert Giles  
  
(end chapter)  
  
Please review!  
  
Personal ANs: Prophetess of Hearts: Hey sweetie! I guess you can see that he didn't remember. We have four summers to go, well three, since Buffy is dead during one of them, but it'll take a while to get these two to see what's in front of them. Sorry about that, but hopefully the romantic parts will keep you reading.  
  
Mary: Hey doll! So glad you're enjoying it. They didn't occur to me as a couple either, until I read Polgara's pairing. It's still a WIP, but it's very very good. You should check it out.  
  
Lexi: Thanks so much, bebe! It really means a lot to me that you've taken the time to give me the thumbs up;)  
  
Pay-day1999: Hey darlin'! Buffy and Logan will eventually get together little by little, and after this, Angel will be gone, but I'm trying to stay as true to canon as possible, so she's still got Riley and Spike to go through. As far as updating quickly, I know, can you believe it? So many scenes in such a little time, it's crazy. I just can't put this story down. I'm writing non-stop, and your endorsement makes it that much more wonderful for me.  
  
Traci: Bebe, I'm so sorry about the chapter length. But I truly can't promise anything in that respect going forward. I try so hard to please y'all, but I feel that I must tell the story the only way I know how. I really didn't like chapter 14. It felt scatty to me. I'm just not one for a lot of details except in the love scenes, as I have a teeny tiny attention span for the rest of it. Hopefully, frequent updates are making up for it some. I started this story on the 3rd, and I've been writing an average of 12-15 hours a day; I'm a little tired, but still invested in making this the best story possible. I hope when all is said and done you'll love the results. As far as Buffy and Logan goes, yes they were engineered to be mates. The question is: why would Stryker do that? Certainly not out of the goodness of his heart. As to Logan's reaction to the news, well, we'll just have to see. Re: the Xander/Logan scene, I needed that to happen for two reasons. First because Logan needed to hear what happened between Buffy and Angel, and because I needed him to be authentically agitated by Angel's reappearance.  
  
Thanks so much everybody for your continuing interest and support. Hugs! Sita:) 


	17. Bedside Manners

Bedside Manners  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters June 4, 1999 6 AM  
  
Logan leaned back in the chair next to Buffy's bed and stretched. She would not be happy when she heard that the internal saboteur was John. She would be hurt, and no doubt embarrassed that she didn't discover that Magneto had gotten to him years before.  
  
He never did like that little jerk.  
  
Of course, Xavier was right. It would be wrong of him to go around snooping in other people's heads without an invitation. Still, it was damned inconvenient this time.  
  
Looking at her, he smiled to himself. Xander had said that when she heard that someone else had killed the vampire mutant with a crossbow arrow, she would be pissed.  
  
She was a feisty little thing, the Slayer.  
  
She didn't look like someone called the Slayer. That sounded like... well... someone who looked like him, he thought.  
  
Under his breath he said, "Come on, Buffy. It's time to wake up."  
  
At noon, Buffy's eyes finally fluttered open, but by then Logan had gone to bed.  
  
On every available surface, flower arrangements, cards and stuffed animals vied for the Slayer's attention. Some of these must be for someone else, she thought at first, but then realized that she wasn't in a hospital room.  
  
At the foot of the bed, Scott and Willow seemed to be deeply immersed in trying to out-maneuver each other on a chessboard. And there were other items nearby that her friends had obviously forgotten, like Willow's favorite pillow, a pair of Marie's hoop earrings, some of Oz's guitar picks, and a Xander soda can. Nothing of Logan's though, maybe he hadn't been there often.  
  
"Does Professor Xavier know that you guys junked up his infirmary?" Buffy murmured.  
  
"Buffy, you're awake!" Scott exclaimed, as he moved forward to hug her.  
  
"Easy. I'm still a little bruised," she complained against his shoulder.  
  
"Buffy, we were so worried! You were sick so long this time. It's never taken this long for you to wake up before, not even when..." said Willow.  
  
Scott didn't appear to notice Willow's slip. He simply kissed Buffy's forehead and stepped back, moving excitedly toward the door. "I'll go tell everyone..."  
  
"Wait, Scott, please don't. Tell Xander... He'll be hurt if he's not the first person told. And Professor Xavier, you can tell him." Willow looked at Buffy pointedly. "I'm just not ready for a stampede yet. And buy me a few more minutes with Willow, will you?"  
  
"Sure, sweetie," Scott nodded, but just before he walked through the door, Buffy stopped him again.  
  
"Wait... Scott... Professor Xavier already knows."  
  
As soon as the door closed, Buffy pouted. "You almost told about the Angel blood drainage!"  
  
Willow grinned. "Like that's why you're making the cranky Buffy face... Ok Buffy, how much did you hear?"  
  
Surprise flittered across Buffy's face. "How did you know?"  
  
"Buffy, how many times have I sat by your hospital bed while you recover from some near death experience? I know what you look like when you're sick and unconscious. And hello, caught you peeking. Besides, why else would you want to talk to me alone if it's not about cute boys?"  
  
Buffy laughed. "I only heard a little. Apparently, I'm a baby. And not really peeking, I was just hot. I wanted to kick off the covers."  
  
"Yeah, you did have a pretty bad fever for a while," Willow admitted, then scolded, "And...and what did we learn about eavesdropping?"  
  
Buffy tried her best to pout again. "Logan is a meanie."  
  
"Buffy!"  
  
"Do you really think he likes me?"  
  
Willow smiled. "A lot."  
  
"A little a lot, or a lot a lot?"  
  
"Do you really want the answer to that question?"  
  
"Yes! No. I'd don't know."  
  
Willow gestured for Buffy to move over, and she sat down on the edge of the bed. "Think about it. You're fresh from the Angel break-up which equals hurt - big hurt, maybe rebounding, and you live in Sunnydale – long distance relationship, nice to meet you! So when he said 'baby', he probably meant not ready. Do you think you're ready?"  
  
Buffy shrugged.  
  
Standing up, Willow walked over to the gifts and seemed to be looking for something. Stopping to select one pale pink rose from a vase of several, she brought it back to Buffy, who brushed the petals across her cheek absently. "These are from Logan, Buff. They're called 'Eliza' and they are completely without thorns. Would he send two dozen completely perfect in every way roses to a baby? I really don't think so, but who knows? All I know for sure is that I've been here and at the hospital waiting for you to wake up every day for almost nine days. He sat here and at the hospital almost twice as long as I did. Some nights, he was here all night. Do you think you're ready for that much liking? If he's being no-pressure guy, and is willing to take it slow and give you space, that's a good thing, right?"  
  
Buffy smiled, "Yeah, Ok," then sighed, "And yet, he smells so scrumptious all the time. And so over-abundantly blessed in the yummy to look at category, it would be oh-so easy to fall for him."  
  
Willow pretended to be shocked. "Really?"  
  
"Right, one-wolfboy woman, like you'd even notice."  
  
"I have eyes. I can see... But seriously, Buffy, I think you should just... let it... unfold."  
  
Suddenly, the door crashed open and Logan rushed to the bed. "Buffy!"  
  
"Logan!" she teased.  
  
"Well... uh... I think... I'll... go take a nap." Willow stammered, rushing for the door, "See you guys later."  
  
"Ok," Buffy grinned. "Hosta later."  
  
Logan sat down facing her, and Buffy shrugged. "She's a little strange, but it's a cute strange. And how did you know I was awake?"  
  
"I don't know. It's weird. I was asleep. I woke up and I just had a feeling. I was surprised, pleasantly surprised, to see that I was right."  
  
Slipping one hand over her hair and down to the back of her neck, Logan pulled Buffy forward until their foreheads met. "I was worried about you, kid." Sighing, he continued, "Never do that again."  
  
Tentatively he touched his lips to hers, and Buffy closed her eyes.  
  
Logan felt a wave of contentment flow over and through him the moment their lips met. There was a rightness to the contact. It was right. The only other time he'd felt that way was when... when he'd touched Buffy before. "Buffy..." he muttered, before deepening the kiss. His tongue slipped past her lips and tasted her. Is this what happy is like, he wondered. Is she feeling this?  
  
"I was afraid I lost you," he said against her mouth.  
  
Buffy withdrew slightly, and whispered, "I'm still here."  
  
Logan looked down for a moment, and back at her. "What happened to you was completely my responsibility. We had all the intel we needed. I should have gone with your instinct to call Kurt in... before you were hurt."  
  
Buffy gazed into his eyes, trying to determine whether or not he truly cared for her. He had never told her that he did. He hadn't admitted it to Willow. In fact, he said the exact opposite. Something told her that Logan was being affectionate as a result of days of worry and guilt. It was relief, nothing more. She was foolishly projecting a schoolgirl crush on someone who respected her as a Slayer and appreciated her friendship. She shook herself inwardly. She'd only been crushing on him for a few days, since hearing his conversation with Willow. And she had been unconscious most of the time over those two days. She must have been dreaming about him.  
  
What was wrong with her?  
  
He was a grown man, for God's sake. Maybe he didn't think occasionally kissing a friend was inappropriate. He seemed to have several acquaintances, but he didn't have many friendships. He didn't offer his trust to many people. She would do her best to keep both.  
  
"I don't believe that," Buffy exhaled. "You made the same decision I would have made if we were talking about Xander or Willow. I could have just as easily gotten Kurt killed."  
  
Logan nodded, obviously processing what she had said.  
  
"As long as we're confessing, I need to tell you that I was listening to you, Logan."  
  
He leaned back, confusion apparent on his face. "Listening to me?"  
  
"I was awake, basking in the glow of fever, but awake... when you... when Willow asked if you liked me and you said that I was too young for you."  
  
Logan stood and turned around to face the surgical equipment. "You didn't want to tell me what you heard, did you?"  
  
"No, not at first."  
  
"You were afraid that it would affect our... friendship."  
  
"Yes," replied Buffy, lying back down.  
  
Logan hesitated. She knew. She knew before he did how he felt about her. She didn't want to talk about it. Just like Jean... she didn't want this. Of course she didn't. He was a mess! He was a mess with violent nightmares, half a life's worth of memories, and claws like some beast.  
  
She was sweetness itself. She was loved by so many people. What could he possible offer her? She'd said that she didn't want it to affect their friendship.  
  
He turned back to her. "It doesn't have to."  
  
(end chapter) 


	18. Mere Mortals, The Fates, and the Powers ...

ANs: Ok, here are what I hope to be the final deviations from canon that I need to do to get this story to work: No nookie with the slimey Parker, Riley leaves Buffy to return to the Initative after Adam dies, Spike and Buffy only have sex once, as a result of their fight in the crumbling building (sorry Spike fans, I love him too and feel your pain), and the night Spike holds Buffy before the last battle doesn't happen as she'll be with Logan instead.  
  
In this chapter, at last, the spell: discovered and explained! Enjoy! sita:)  
  
Anna: Thanks for saying so! I hope you really like the latest update:)  
  
Alex97: I'm not sure that I'm going to write that. In trying to focus on the summers between the episodes, I've found that it's much easier just to gloss over her world in California. I'm debating whether to bring Logan to Sunnydale for Joyce's funeral. If I do, there may be a confrontation. We'll see. I really don't know yet:)  
  
Prophetess of Hearts: Logan definitely will feel the loss of Buffy at her death. As you'll see in this chapter, they are fated to be together and are therefore technically mates for life, or will be when they actually mate;)  
  
Lexi; Hey doll! Glad to see you back. I really hope you enjoy this one, as it took a long time to put all of the pieces together:)  
  
Pay-day1999: Did I say slow? Don't worry about bad feelings, they're almost together... It's coming up faster than I realized. I just did a count and I've only got about 9 chapters left to write. I forgot that I could condense the summer of season 5 down to one fairly short chapter, as Buffy is dead. Thanks again for sticking around to see what happens next!  
  
Hey lee! I know. I know. It is crazy;) I started on the 3rd and I'm at chapter 18 today. Nineteen is written, it just needs some polish and there are others that are partially done. The truth is, I just feel as if I've got this story in my head and if I don't keep writing, if I put it down, then I'll never finish. I have a HG/SS story languishing – Ok, so it's so dead it's decomposing over at AFF. I just need to get this done and out of my system. Hope that it doesn't get on your nerves too badly.  
  
Mere Mortals, The Fates, and the Powers That Be  
  
Sunnydale

May 5, 2000 4 PM  
  
It was a quiet Friday afternoon at The Magic Shop. Dawn was at the table pretending to work on her history report. Anya was pressuring a young couple into buying knotted toad's tongue. Buffy was in the back room beating on the Xander dummy, which coincidentally housed Xander at the time. Giles was sitting behind his desk reading, surrounded by old books and parchments, in the small business office adjacent to the sales floor.  
  
Giles stood abruptly, tore off his glasses and tossed them on the desk. "Dear God, they've done the werewolf mating spell!" Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed morosely, collapsing back down into his chair.  
  
"Giles, are you alright?" Buffy asked, as she ran into his office.  
  
"What?" Giles asked, glasses back in place, as he headed for the shop's front door. "Oh right... sorry. It's just... some... old friends of mine have done something incredibly foolish. I need to get to... I need to go and see if I can sort this all out. Help Anya look after the store while I'm gone, would you?"  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters May 6, 2000 7PM  
  
Logan and Professor Charles Xavier sat at the conference table in Xavier's office. Logan had just finished reading Giles' letter from the previous year, and sat in stunned silence.  
  
"Logan, I know you're angry that we didn't tell the two of you right away. But we really didn't know what we were dealing with. Giles believes that he has found the correct spell and he should be here any moment to discuss the ramifications," Xavier said.  
  
"I'm shocked. Angry, yes that too, and frustrated. It's like I'll never be able to move on from Alkali Lake because what happened there keeps coming back to haunt me... I don't have any memory of any of this, Professor."  
  
"That's no surprise. I'm sure you weren't in the room when the spell was cast. It may have been mentioned to you at some point, but... that was a traumatic time, Logan. It's perfectly healthy that your mind is still shielding you from most of it."  
  
Xavier looked toward the door, "Giles is here."  
  
Giles entered the room moments later, clearly surprised that Logan was present.  
  
Xavier gestured for Giles to sit. "I felt that it was best for the three of us to go over your information together, Rupert."  
  
"Of course-of course," Giles stammered. "I was only a bit... It was my intention that we tell Logan this tonight as well..."  
  
Giles sat down at the table next to Xavier, clearly trying his best to avoid eye contact with Logan. "The changes to Buffy and Logan's DNA are a side effect of an arcane dark magic ritual known as the werewolf mating spell."  
  
Then, looking to Logan, he explained, "You and Buffy are obviously not werewolves per se, but let me give you some background so that you understand what has happened. There are three ways to create a new werewolf: 1) a werewolf bites a human, 2) a different, extremely difficult dark magic spell is cast, or 3) by... erm... two werewolves mating."  
  
Giles stood and slowly started ambling around the room. Glancing back, he saw both men watching him carefully. "Sorry, I think best on my feet. Ok, making a werewolf... No, wait, let me share this with you first... There are similarities and differences between the reproductive 'inclinations' if you will, of wolves and werewolves. For example, both wolves and werewolves mate for life. The drive to mate is as strong in a werewolf as it is in a wolf. However, in a wolf pack, only the alpha pair is allowed to mate. That is not the case with werewolves and their packs, which are a much more loosely linked group."  
  
Giles pulled off his glasses and cleaned them with his handkerchief. "The spell we're talking about is an obscure and ancient spell used by Watchers centuries ago to pacify werewolves and limit their offspring. It was created to minimize the spread of Lycanthropy and human deaths caused by male werewolves roaming over large distances, looking for mates. This spell does three things: it creates a connection between the designated male and female werewolf, curbing the desire to roam; it sterilizes the couple, and it has a calming effect on the male werewolf. While he remains fiercely protective of his mate, he is pacified, unless... erm... challenged for her attentions."  
  
Giles paused again, clearly thinking about where to take his explanation next. "Experimentation with this spell has proven that separation from the female causes extreme agitation in the male, but her return to him eases his anxiety. One could say that this is akin to an unimaginably powerful drug addiction, which may have been its appeal for Stryker. Eventually, the male would do anything... he would literally kill his own mother... to be reunited with his mate."  
  
"It is very possible that had Buffy been an adult at the time the spell was cast, she could have been given to you and then kept from you in order to ensure your obedience. The Watcher or Watchers whom no doubt sold this spell and something of Buffy's... some item that would have held her scent... to Stryker, would have known that. I'd like to think that they may have been planning to end the spell in time, leaving Buffy virtually unscathed."  
  
"But Buffy and Logan are not werewolves. This won't affect them in the same way, will it?" Xavier asked.  
  
Giles continued, "The Counsel learned long ago that the spell deposits an aspect of the werewolf in each mate if they are human. The last time it was used was in the thirteenth century in Romania, to curb the spread of a very large pack. The Watcher's Counsel stopped using it because it was accidentally cast on non-werewolf humans who were having an affair."  
  
Accidentally?" Logan asked.  
  
"The Watcher who cast it was attempting to protect his assigned Potential. It was a case of the humans being in the wrong place and time. He mistakenly thought he was casting the spell on a local werewolf couple, romantically linked in their human lives as well. Rather, they were humans having a affair and married to other people in different villages. The woman, not knowing a spell had been cast, returned to her husband's bed the next night. The following day, her lover smelled her husband's scent on her, and the combination of her and her husband's... sexual fluids. In a feral rage, the man beat his lover's husband to death with his bare hands. That only after a few days of the spell being cast... but the lovers had apparently been intimate for quite a while, so the bond was stronger."  
  
Sitting down again, Giles sighed. "Buffy and Logan have lived under this spell for almost twenty years. I imagine that the only thing that has slowed down the progression of the... addiction is Buffy's age and the fact that they haven't actually been intimate yet. Also, you should know that if there is a reversal spell, thus far I have been unable to find it."  
  
"I will continue to look for it, if that is what you wish, Logan. But, I must beg you not to ask me to. As I'm sure you've learned from my earlier findings and the aspect of the werewolf," Giles said, gesturing to the papers in the middle of the table. "I have no doubt that ending this spell will mean that your healing powers, sense of smell, and perhaps other traits would be diminished, and Buffy will no longer have her strength, speed, stamina, and healing power. But she will still look the same. She will be a normal young woman with the face of a Slayer. She is known to many demons and rumors flow through the demon community very quickly. Over the years she has slain hundreds of vampires, and they are not a forgiving lot. Many would relish the opportunity to torture and kill her. She would never be able to open her front door and walk outside after sunset again. She would never be able to arrive home after dark again."  
  
Giles looked at Logan for a long moment, "In addition, knowing Buffy as you do, you can have no doubt that if she is told, she will want to do the noble thing and set you free. Therefore, I must also ask that if you choose not to end this spell, you keep this from her."  
  
Xavier regarded Logan somberly. "I am very sorry, my friend. This is a monumental decision Rupert has asked you to make. Perhaps you would like to take a break for a while to gather your thoughts?  
  
Logan nodded numbly. "This actually makes a lot of sense. I've been thinking about Buffy constantly since she left..."  
  
Xavier moved his chair toward the door. "We will leave you to it, then."  
  
When Giles and Xavier returned to the office an hour later, Logan was so lost in thought he didn't hear them come through the door. He was leaning against a floor to ceiling window. Looking out into the gardens, his arms were folded across his chest, one boot was crossed over the other, and his head and shoulder were pressed against the side of the deep window sill. To Giles, it seemed as if Logan carried the weight of the world on his back. Snap out of it, man, Giles told himself. Logan was the luckiest bastard in the world. He just didn't realize it yet. He was getting the most amazing woman handed to him on a platter, if he could only be patient...  
  
Please Logan, Giles begged him silently, make the right choice.  
  
"Logan?" Xavier asked.  
  
Logan nodded once and made his way back to the table. "Ok, you're right. We shouldn't end the spell."  
  
"Thank God," Giles exclaimed softly.  
  
Suddenly, no one seemed to know what to say. Then Giles heard a faint whisper inside his head. It was Xavier's voice. He said, "Tell him... tell him he must not feel guilty about being so strongly attracted to her."  
  
Giles cleared his throat. "Logan, the attraction you feel for Buffy is natural. Even were it not for the spell, she is a beautiful, wonderful young woman."  
  
Momentarily giddy with relief, Giles thought, this must be what it's like to be the father of the bride.  
  
Fixing his eyes on Logan he continued, "Logan, I have been privileged to know four Slayers in my lifetime and none of them has Buffy's intelligence, drive, strength of character, compassion, or capacity for love. I don't know if you have faith in the Powers That Be, but since becoming her Watcher and friend, I have seen too many apocalypses averted against literally impossible odds, not to have faith in the simple truth that Buffy was born to be the Slayer. I firmly believe that it was her fate from the beginning. And, if this is true, then it is also true that she was born to be your wife."  
  
Xavier spoke to Giles' mind again, "Tell him to be patient..."  
  
"It's true that she's still very young and because of that you will need to try to be patient with her. Try to give her reason and room to love you. Try not to rush this process. She, like you, has serious responsibilities. Hers are in Sunnydale. I have been receiving periodic updates from Wesley Wyndham-Price regarding Faith's rehabilitation, and I think that within a few more years, she will be ready to come to Sunnydale to protect the Hellmouth."  
  
Logan frowned, "Years?"  
  
Giles sighed, "I know it will be hard to wait that long, but if someone were to promise me complete and utter happiness in two to three years, because that's really what we're talking about here, I would do whatever was necessary to ensure that it came to pass."  
  
Logan looked at Giles and Xavier skeptically.  
  
Seemingly frustrated, Xavier asserted, "Logan, she is worth the wait."  
  
Logan knew that they were right, but years... And knowing what was had happened was making the pull he felt toward Buffy stronger. He was so tired of fighting it. When Giles had told him that he didn't have to struggle against himself any longer, and talked about Buffy becoming his wife, Logan had assumed that he and Buffy would be married immediately. He had forgotten that she would never know any of this.  
  
"What can I expect?" Logan asked Giles finally.  
  
"It won't be easy. You will become increasingly protective as well as territorial and Buffy won't know why. She is an independent young woman and if you push her she will fight you or she will seek to escape. You must be her friend first and always. You must draw her along slowly. I feel I must caution you to wait to engage in intercourse until after you are assured of her commitment, perhaps until after you are legally married. After you make love to her, you will be mated... married... for all practical purposes. It will be torturously painful for you to be apart. It will be painful for her as well, but again, she won't know the reason. If either of you were to die, the other would follow within days."  
  
"Also, as long as the spell is in place, it is unlikely that you will be able to have children of your own. This has never before been tested, but sterility is part of the spell. However, such a limitation will not hurt her as much as you might think. As you have experienced first hand at this school, there are many children in the world who need love. And Buffy has lived for a long time with the understanding that every new day may be her last one on Earth."  
  
Logan sat still for several moments, his face impossible to read. Then, as if an idea sparked amusement in him, he smirked at the other men at the table.  
  
"Anybody else feel like getting drunk?"  
  
(end chapter)


	19. Blossoming

ANs: I forgot about Logan's healing power re: him technically not being able to have a hang over. I know that the Hummer H2 SUT wasn't out in 2000. I may upset anyone living in Vegas, Niagara Falls, or Wyoming in the chapter, I'm sorry but it worked.  
  
Relax and go with it.  
  
Oh, and personalized notes to everyone re: reviews next posting.

Blossoming  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
May 7, 2000 8 AM  
  
Logan woke with a vicious hangover. He really didn't want to get out of bed. He wanted even less to shower and get dressed, as that seemed like awfully strenuous work. So he did all three as slowly as possible. After washing up and stumbling down the stairs in a clean pair of faded jeans and fitted black tshirt, he attempted to appear somewhat rested and refreshed.  
  
Dropping into the seat next to a black-clad Marie at the kitchen bar, he concluded that black must be the color of the day. It definitely went with his mood.  
  
Having trouble keeping both eyes open at the same time, he considered having some coffee, but his stomach warned against it. Marie was twirling a piece of her hair around one gloved finger, and reading something she seemed to find fascinating.  
  
Turning to him finally, she laid one elbow on the bar, leaned her head against her hand, looked him over, and said, "You look like hehll. Does this have anything to do with Mr. Giles' visit last night?"  
  
"Giles... yeah," Logan grunted, as he pushed himself up and walked over to the coffee pot. Distractedly, he wrapped his fingers around a heavy indigo mug from the collection on the counter, and began to pour. He savored the solid weight of the ceramic.  
  
This is the lamest delay tactic ever, he thought. But how could he tell Marie something that he had to keep hidden from the woman who would be his wife?  
  
"Yeah... uh... Giles was just passing through New York... We had a few too many," he groaned, massaging his temples with the unencumbered hand.  
  
"Is sohmething else bothering you?"  
  
Logan smirked and sat back down. I'm so hung over, that if I drink this coffee I will definitely be sick, and by the way, I'm not just a freakish mutant, I've got the magically-induced, love-sick werewolf blues as well.  
  
Setting the mug aside, he muttered, "I really don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Well, of course you dohn't," Marie chided. "If you talked about it, it mihght actually help."  
  
"Lay off me, Rogue."  
  
"Shore Ah will. You juhst sit there and scowl, Logan. I'll drink my coffee and read the pahper, completely ignoring your churlish and sour disposition."  
  
Logan sighed and looked around, making sure that no one else would overhear. "Fine. Try this one on for size. I've fallen for Buffy Summers and I can't seem to shake it. She's arriving in a few weeks and I'm dreading it, because I am certain to make an ass of myself."  
  
Marie looked at him for a millisecond as if he had just passed gas without an apology; and then laughing, she nudged his arm with her shoulder and admonished him, "Quit tohying with my emotions. You know every woman wants to play mahtchmaker to her most eligible bachelor friends."  
  
Reaching into a nearby basket for a blueberry muffin and then deciding against it, Logan grimaced. A few seconds later, he smiled as if what she'd said just occurred to him, "Most eligible? Really?"  
  
Logan must be in a bad way from last night, Marie thought. He's having trouble keeping up.  
  
"Why nahturally," she drawled. "You're smart, sexy, and very occasionally... chahrming. What mohre could a girl ask for? But you know that you're going to hahve to tell Scott about this crush, right? Because if he hears through the grapevihne that you've asked her out..."  
  
"Thanks," he grinned and then rubbed his face with his hands. "I was trying to pretend I lived in a world without interfering cousins named Scott."  
  
"Have you decihded where you'll be spending the honeymoohn?"  
  
Honeymoon, eh? He definitely liked the sound of that. Deciding to play along, he said, "Niagara Falls."  
  
Marie, getting into the game, feigned offense on Buffy's behalf. "Niagara Falls! Logan, a girl only gets one honeymoohn, if she's lucky enough to find a good mahn like you. You should take her sohmewhere that she might actually like..." Pretending to think about it, she suggested, "Buffy's a California girl, she might like some place trohpical."  
  
"Vegas?" he laughed.  
  
Marie rolled her eyes, and replied sardonically, "Vegas! Absoluhtely! Because that's no where near as overdohne as Niagara Falls, it's bursting with local color, and it sounds just like Buffy... I was thinking more along the lines of St. Thohmas or Hawaii."  
  
As appealing as the mental picture of nighttime oceanic skinny dipping with Buffy was, he couldn't let Marie off that easily. "That's really not my style. How about Wyoming?"  
  
Slapping her hand against the counter as if she couldn't bear to hear any more, she cried, "Wyoming! Logan, did you know that 'Wyoming' is a Native American word which loosely translates into English as 'why oh why would anyone ever want to come here?'"  
  
"I don't know Marie... Wyoming has a certain appeal... big sky... nice mountains... not a lot of people..."  
  
"Not to mention the fahct that it's freezing cold there most of the year..."  
  
"Wait a sec..." she giggled, then jumped up and ran into the other room, returning with a travel magazine. "If you're thinking of a winter wehdding and honeymoohn, you should consihder the Alps." Marie flipped to a photo spread of the region, "See? Just thihnk... you could lease a cute little chalet with a big fireplahce for a couple of weeks or-or a French fahrmhouse rental in the upper foothills, with horses and several big fireplahces. Buffy told me she likes to ihce skate..."  
  
He could actually see Buffy in a little black fur-trimmed parka, tiny snowflakes clinging to her bangs and eyelashes, her nose and cheeks pink from exposure to the cold. He imagined the two of them walking, holding hands and kissing under softly falling snow, dining with candles on an old rustic kitchen table, and then making love until sunrise. Suddenly, this didn't feel like a joke to Logan any longer.  
  
Marie was taken aback for a few seconds. He didn't seem to be listening. His face had softened, and if she didn't know him better, she'd swear that he was lost in a prolonged daydream.  
  
"Lohgan, you're serious aren't you? You're in love with her."  
  
"I'm not really sure I know what that means, and it's been a year since I've seen her... But I think... I think I am."  
  
Later that day, Marie walked into her room and closed the door behind her. Picking up the telephone, she dialed Sunnydale.  
  
"Hi Willow," she said, nervously running her hands over her midnight Versace jeans, "It's Marie LaVeau. Do you hahve a minute?"  
  
Kennedy Airport, New York City  
  
May 29, 2000 5 PM  
  
Buffy was happy to be going to Westchester, even though it meant being near Logan, if only to escape Willow for a little while. Willow had developed a new obsession. For the last three weeks, every other word from the red- headed witch had been 'Logan'. Didn't she think Logan would be a good boyfriend, and wouldn't Logan love the new Italian restaurant near campus, and what would Logan think about that blue dress in the store window? If it were up to Willow lately, Buffy would do nothing but moon over Logan all day every day, as if Buffy hadn't been thinking and dreaming about him enough already. Even Oz had mentioned in passing a few days before that he thought Logan was an alright guy. What in the weird world was that about?  
  
The plane had landed and nearly everyone was off, but the flight attendants were kind enough to let Buffy stop in the plane's lavatory to quickly check her makeup before seeing her 'fiancé' in the terminal. Ok, so it was a very cheesy lie, but Buffy wasn't quite ready to be in the same state a Logan yet. As long as she was still on the plane, technically she wasn't in the airport, she rationalized. She was so thankful that Scott and Marie were picking her up this year. She was too agitated to deal with the now firmly- established traditional ride back to Xavier's with Logan.  
  
Looking herself over carefully, Buffy noticed that she had a little pretzel salt on her new cashmere-silk viridian mini-dress, and brushed it off. Willow had picked it out of her closet and paired it with white calf boots. Her fashion sense sure had come a long way. Willow must be channeling Cordy long-distance these days, she mused, as she twirled her hair up and slipped a tortoise shell hair stick through it.  
  
"Oh well," Buffy told her reflection, "Time to deal."  
  
Just outside the gate, Logan was growing increasingly flustered. The flight crews were changing and Buffy had yet to come out. Maybe she decided not to come, or maybe she took another flight. Maybe I've missed her, he worried.  
  
He pulled at the collar of his chocolate button down. Marie had insisted that he dress up if he were going to take Buffy out to dinner. But he was a simple man. He really wasn't concerned about material things. Consequently, he didn't have very much in his wardrobe to choose from, and so Marie had dragged him to the local mall. They had decided on black jeans and black boots, but nearly came to blows in the next store. She had wanted him to wear a light sage silk shirt from Banana Republic, saying that it was a good contrast and brought out the color of his amber eyes. All he could do was groan at her mothering.  
  
He hated shopping. It gave him a headache after about twenty minutes. Luckily, a kid who worked at the store suggested the brown shirt he now wore. Brown was good. Solid. Earthy. He could do brown.  
  
"Logan?" Buffy asked, as she gently laid a hand on his arm. "Are you ok?"  
  
Breathing deeply, he pulled her to him. Buffy was here. She was in his arms. She wore a new perfume. He could pick out fresh peach, tangy orange, and also sandalwood, cedar, and oakmoss, all lightly woven around her natural scent. It was a near perfect moment. If only she loved him, too.  
  
Stepping back she started, "I thought Scott and Marie..."  
  
Nodding, he looked at her lips, too afraid that if he looked into her eyes he'd give himself away. To distract her, he smiled broadly, scooped up her bags, and started walking quickly toward the garage entrance right off the gate.  
  
"They were planning to come but something came up with Xavier," Logan explained. "I offered to pick you up in their place. They accepted. To answer your first question, I'm fine. I was just thinking that we'll probably have trouble with traffic on the way back."  
  
Appreciatively, he digested the fact that she hadn't protested this time when he picked up her bags. Does this mean she's somehow acknowledging that it's ok for me to take care of her, he wondered. Am I projecting what I know about the nature of our relationship on to her too early?  
  
His inner voice mocked him scathingly. No doubt about it. Slow down, Speed Racer.  
  
Buffy was rushing to keep up, still four paces behind as they arrived at the garage. She tried to step a little lighter, as the sound of her boots smacking against the pavement echoed through the levels of the car park. Self-criticism plagued her. Very feminine, Buff. Real stealthy, Slayer.  
  
"Sorry about arriving so late," Buffy said. "Willow booked the ticket for me on her handy laptop. She said it was the only flight available today, which is strange because the plane was only half-full..."  
  
As he stopped and pressed the remote control to unlock the black Hummer H2 SUT, she asked, "Scott's latest toy?"  
  
Is she questioning my ability to provide for her? Frowning, he replied, "No, mine."  
  
Still anxious and fidgety, he caught her gaze for the first time and rushed, "How would you feel about stopping for dinner on the way home? I know a great little place."  
  
Silently, Logan wished he could confess to her that over the last few weeks, he had dragged her cousin to every decent-looking restaurant on the route between New York and Westchester, sampling the menus and convincing Scott to let him take her out. I'm deeply, insanely in love with you, Buffy, he brooded. And not telling you feels like deceit.  
  
"Sure," she shrugged, as they sat down and clicked their seat belts.  
  
Trying not to let him see how edgy he made her feel, she leaned back into the leather and closed her eyes.  
  
"Tired?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," Buffy replied, as she tensely fisted the leather on the sides of her seat. And you smell so good that it's all I can do not to squirm in my seat or jump into your lap. When did you start wearing Emporio Armani? And by the way, did you know that on you, it's so sexy I can't see straight?  
  
Driving to the restaurant was excruciating for Logan, and now that he had turned off of the highway onto the feeder road, he shifted tensely in his seat. Buffy had been and still was pretending to sleep. But as he listened closely in the crushing silence between them, he could hear her agitato heartbeat, restlessly rushing blood through her veins.  
  
She's upset, he'd grasped that much at least. I've upset her. She wanted Scott and Marie to pick her up. Damn! I've got to recover from this somehow.  
  
Once they were inside the restaurant and seated, Buffy wasn't sure what to say. She had fired off a round of trivial subjects, but he remained distant and aloof. She was looking in every direction but his, scouring her fragmented mind for another, less idiotic topic.  
  
"It's really a lovely restaurant," she affirmed, without realizing that she was speaking aloud.  
  
The tablecloths were cream linen with an underskirt of sophisticated red and cream floral raw silk. Scanning the other tables, she noted that the napkins matched the table skirts, beautifully framing the heavy silver flatware. Buffy glanced down for a moment, admiring the waves of reflected candle flame in her silver charger and along the silver rim of the otherwise white china place setting.  
  
In the dimly lit room, a sense of privacy was created by the flickering candles spreading light just over the tables, and the couples seated at them. There were only twelve tables. On each table the candles were a different warm shade from the softest yellow to the earthiest terra cotta. The pillar and two tapers at their table happened to be Buffy's favorite color, snapdragon, and they were set into an abstract silver heart candle holder.  
  
But the candle holder at their table was different than everyone else's. All the other tables had crystal ones. Looking closer, she read a tiny inscription along the side of the base that was closest to her, it read, 'Logan and Buffy – May 29, 2000.  
  
Buffy inhaled quickly. A keepsake? But why?  
  
A sudden realization dawned. Couples? She double-checked. There were no parties larger than two anywhere in the intimate restaurant, and all of the chairs had been set so that the couples were sitting close together, rather than facing each other across the table. Why didn't I notice before? This is the most romantic place of all time, she thought. Was this deliberate? It must have been. Can't be a coincidence... This is a set up. He's trying to... to date me.  
  
She wanted to laugh as joy raced through her entire body. Willow and Oz had to have been in on this.  
  
"Come here often?" she teased.  
  
"What? Oh, not often. I like the food though," he stammered, completely taken aback by her tone. Buffy had been chatting about nothing, almost to herself, and up to that moment he had thought that perhaps he shouldn't intrude on her thoughts.  
  
Buffy nodded and grinned openly, as if she wanted him to keep talking.  
  
"So I heard from Oz that you ended it with Riley," Logan said. "How are you holding up?" Supremely dumb... Dumb thing to ask, he admonished himself. She's probably still hurt.  
  
"Are you sure that you want to talk about this?" she asked.  
  
No, he admitted to himself, because the idea of you in his bed makes me want to tear out his throat and punch my claws through his heart.  
  
Logan was a little shaken by his internal admission, as the dark, dangerous part of him pushed at his conscious mind. What I want to do is to drag you out into the forest, conquer, consume, devour, and possess every inch of you for a solid week.  
  
Buffy lifted and lowered her shoulders once and then sighed. "Not much to tell really. I was on the rebound and he was in every way wrong for me. It didn't work out."  
  
Before he could respond, Buffy grinned slyly. "So... anyone new in your life?"  
  
What? What does she mean? "Not new exactly, but there is someone I'd like to get closer to."  
  
"Hmm..." she nodded, smiling as if she were reining in her laughter, "and have you told her how you feel?"  
  
"I'm getting there." Is she opening the door, he hoped, or just being a caring friend? Please, please just be a little bit open to this.  
  
Buffy's laughter broke free. It was the most delightfully flirtatious, infectious sound. "You should hurry. I won't be available for long."  
  
Shock stole across his face. Then, reaching over, he gently brushed his hand over the back of her neck and pulled her toward him. "Buffy," he sighed with relief, pressing his lips against hers in a chaste kiss.  
  
"Buffy, I'm crazy about you."  
  
(end chapter) 


	20. Molotov Volatile

ANs: While this chapter contains no nudity or actual sex and I think it's still PG-13, there is some fairly feverish sexual tension. If that upsets you, skip it.

Personal ANs:

Elfe de Chocolat: I'm glad you liked what you read in chapter one, and I'm hopeful that you enjoyed the rest!

Lexi: Hey darlin'! I'm certainly not the Tom Clancy of research, but I do try to get it right when it's important. I'm an Animal Planet watcher mostly when in comes to nature documentaries, but no doubt some of their programs came from DC documentaries. By now DC has a ton of channels and major funding, I'm sure. Did you see the documentary comparing wolves and dogs? Very cool!

Pay-day1999: Hi bebe! Yep, they're together at last, but sometimes paradise is still rocky. Hopefully it's realistic. Someone will tell Buffy, I'm still working out whom and her reaction. Yes, Riley is gone. Imho, he never deserved her. Hello! He cheated on her with a skanky blood slut. She should have kicked him to the curb, not run after his helo. Oh well. Dawn will be there as background music like the Scoobies and X-Men. Unlike some people, I don't think of Dawn as a clone of Buffy. If that were true, they would look exactly alike. So I don't predict any Logan confusion. To me, Dawnie is Buffy's sister, made from a part of Buffy, yes, but not the part involved in the spell. That's my story and I'm sticking to it;)

Anna: I'm glad you're liking the story pace and progression so far. Giles did say that, and its true, but in order to actually be mates, they would have to have mated at least once. Logan is trying to hold out until they can be together permanently, but it's going to be a rough ride. Buffy will be upset about the secret, but I think that she get over it fairly quickly. I'm not sure if there will be a huge reckoning and Buffy runs away from Logan, or throws things in a tantrum-like manner and gets over it. shrugs We'll see where the keyboard takes me.

Prophetess of Hearts: She's bound to find out. That's what makes life interesting – the fireworks that don't happen on the 4th of July. But all will end happily I assure you, as the last chapter will most likely be scenes from the honeymoon.

Alex97: No Jean return in the films as of yet = no Jean return here. Darn it! That would be a perfect opportunity for Buffy to show her wolfie teeth. But, I was serious when I said at the beginning of chapter one that this story is based as closely as possible on canon established by Buffy 1-7 and the X-Men films. Good idea anyway;)

Queenfrizz30: I know! Are they the perfect couple or what? They are both so opinionated and yet, heroic. Plus, to date, neither of them are particularly lucky in love. Until now;) As for the amount I've written, it may all be complete crap, but I can't seem to put it down. Luckily I have a laptop, so I can take it with me around the house. Anyway, glad to hear that you like the story so far!

Molotov Volatile  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
June 25, 2000 8AM  
  
Buffy woke to the scent of roses. Opening one eye, she stretched her arms above her head and her hands came into contact with piles of small, light, cool drifts of snow... Snow? No, not snow, she realized. Rolling over, she swept her arms wide over her pillows, gathered at least a hundred rose petals against her face, and inhaled the captivating scent.  
  
"Heaven," she muttered aloud. This must be what heaven is like. Her entire room and bathroom were covered in tall piles of rose petals mixed in every imaginable color: red, white, peach, lavender, and pink. As she looked closer, she realized that there were several different variations of each color. The reds weren't just one red. They were titian, wine, vermilion, ruby, and cherry. The pinks were coral, blush, salmon, zinfandel, and bubblegum.  
  
Stopping only to step into her lamb's wool slippers, pull her white terry cotton robe on over her petal-stained white pjs, and to stuff a handful of petals in the pocket of her robe, Buffy ran out of her room and down the stairs. Once she reached the foot of the stairs, she heard Logan and Scott talking in the kitchen.  
  
As quietly as she could, she crept to the entrance hall and walked out the front door. Racing around to the back of the mansion, Buffy ran all the way to the back door. After opening and closing the door softly, she inched across the laundry room floor until she reached the kitchen.  
  
Peering around the entrance, she was pleased to see that Logan was in his usual spot at the bar, with his back to her. Scott saw her, but his facial expression remained neutral and his eyes were hidden, so no giveaway there. Logan was still in the white tshirt he'd slept in and threadbare grey sweats. Sliding her hand into her pocket furtively, she pulled out a handful of petals as if she were about to shower Logan, when he said, "Points for the tiptoe, darlin', but I picked up your scent you as soon as you walked out of your bedroom door..."  
  
He knew the minute she was within a half a mile of him in any direction, and more importantly, he felt confident that could track her in any weather, under any conditions.  
  
Buffy dropped the petals on his head anyway as his hands snaked out, whirled her around, and jerked her onto his lap for a long, sweet kiss.  
  
Interrupting the kiss, a disgusted look crossed Scott's face and he exclaimed, "Aw...God! It's bad enough... Do you have to do that here? In the kitchen... where people eat?"  
  
Buffy waved nonchalantly, still looking at Logan. "Bye then."  
  
Ignoring Scott completely, Logan nuzzled Buffy's ear and said, "He's just jealous."  
  
"Buffy, your mom wouldn't..."  
  
"Bye Scott," she interrupted, glaring at him with her closest approximation of Willow's 'resolved' face.  
  
"Whatever." As he strode toward the door, he called over his shoulder, "We're finishing this discussion later."  
  
"Mmm-hmm," Logan moaned as she placed a kiss in his palm and snuggled languidly against his chest.  
  
"Did you know that there was a rose blizzard in my room last night?" Buffy purred, pressing her lips against his neck.  
  
Logan felt himself begin to harden as the vibrating sensation at his throat hummed through his body and gathered in his lower stomach. The smell of Buffy and her burgeoning arousal, combined with the heat rising from her flushed skin, nearly shot him out of his seat.  
  
Standing quickly, he lowered Buffy to the ground, "I-I'll help you clean up..."  
  
Buffy turned around pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his waist. Gazing up at him suggestively, she whispered, "I have an even better idea. Why don't we go upstairs to my room... I'll fill the tub with hot, steamy water... You can scoop up some flower parts from the floor... I'll wash your back. You'll wash mine. There'll be washings a plenty. Then we'll see what else comes up."  
  
Logan hugged her tightly against him. "Buffy..."  
  
Buffy stepped back, turned around, and sighed. "No big. No sugar yet... and apparently you're not backing down from that one."  
  
"Buffy, I'm sorry."  
  
She turned back and gently cupped his face, "No, don't be sorry. It's very gentlemanly... It's just not always easy."  
  
Capturing her hands and wrapping them around his neck, he sighed, "It's tough for me, too."  
  
Smiling again, Buffy teased, "You know, I wish that you'd told me you were a prude before you made me fall head over heels for you." Then she pressed her lips against his, and murmured, "If only you weren't so tempting."  
  
Logan had to admit to himself that he was unprepared for the mental, emotional, and sensory assault of Buffy's undivided attention. In the past month, she'd stimulated, challenged, astonished, entertained, and for the brief hours they were apart at night, haunted him.  
  
As she blistered his lips with the heat of hers, for a few unforeseen moments, he relaxed the control he had clamped over the beast, and allowed himself to feel every cell in his body screaming for him to merge with her. He jerked her tightly against him and penetrated her mouth, pouring every drop of his craving for her into his kiss. With his eyes still closed, he mindlessly lifted her off the ground and carried Buffy toward the stairs, her legs wrapped firmly around his hips in invitation and acceptance. Yes, he thought. Yes. Yes. Yes. Mine.  
  
Astonished by his passionate invasion, Buffy's eyes shot open. His eyes were locked shut and his face was so beautiful and hungry and raw. Her eyes drifted closed again as he lifted her up, and she met his kiss with all of the urgency she possessed. She reveled in the feel of his hands on her. She loved his hands. They were powerful. There really wasn't any other word. Buffy returned his crushing embrace. A wave of frantic energy washed over her. She needed him to enter into her, fill the sprawling, chasmal void, and never ever leave.  
  
Suddenly, they were climbing the stairs and Buffy was jolted. He didn't want this. He'd told her that he wasn't ready. She had to slow him down so he could think clearly. She broke the kiss. And for a fraction of a second the disoriented pain on his face was unbearable. Then it was gone.  
  
He dropped her legs abruptly and gentled his embrace.  
  
"Logan, I..."  
  
"No," he rasped, kissing the top of her head. "No. This was my fault. It won't happen again. I just... But I can't do this. We can't."  
  
"It's alright," she said, as her hands soothed him, stroking his back in slow circles. "We're together and that's the most important thing. The rest will work itself out."  
  
"I love you, Buffy," he confessed against her hair. "You mean more to me than all of the people in this world combined."  
  
"I love you, too," she confirmed. Then she sat on the stairs and pulled him down next to her.  
  
After he'd seated himself, she took his hand and linked their fingers. A little sadly, Buffy continued, "I don't know how I'm going to survive nine months without you... and you still haven't met Dawn."  
  
Cheered by the thought of her sister, Buffy smiled softly, "She's definitely going to want to meet you soon. I mean I can't exactly ask her to be Maid of Honor at our wedding..."  
  
"Are you proposing to me?" he asked, apparently stunned.  
  
"What gave me away?" she laughed.  
  
"The first hint was 'our wedding'," Logan grinned wolfishly, leaned over and began nibbling her ear.  
  
She shrugged lightly, coyly sliding away from him, "Maybe."  
  
Leaning back, he rested his elbows on the step behind, and replied, "Good. I'm in - as long as you swear to obey and worship me."  
  
His innocent comment hit a nerve. For the last month, he'd been loving and sweet, and yet, a part of her was unsettled by him. She had been emotionally vulnerable twice before and both times she'd been burned, but this was different. He wasn't exactly free flowing with information about his feelings. He loved her. She believed that. But Angel loved her, too. What good did it do? If Logan broke up with her, she wasn't sure she'd come back from it.  
  
A voice in her head told her to run while she still had the chance.  
  
Also, he was a predator, as dangerous as, or more so than she. Since becoming the Slayer, she'd never been with someone who could most likely, eventually, take her in a fight. All he had to do was wear her down and wait for her to make a mistake. It wasn't that she believed he would hurt her physically, exactly the opposite, but it was unnerving just the same.  
  
Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "So not going to happen, cave dweller."  
  
Logan was subtly and sometimes not-so subtly domineering. He seemed to nudge her and their relationship in the direction he wanted to take it. For example, why didn't she get a voice in the decision as to where and when they were going to make love for the first time? It bothered her more than she had admitted to him. Everything about him excited her. But when she tried to express that, he shut her down, which was confusing and rough on girl's self-esteem. She kicked herself mentally for stopping him earlier. He wanted her. He must! Every guy she knew would give his right hand...  
  
He shrugged good-naturedly, "Then I guess you're screwed."  
  
Logan licked his lower lip and tasted Buffy. He was the luckiest guy in the world to have her, especially right now. God, she was stunning when provoked. He's give his right hand willingly to touch her with his left.  
  
"Not lately."  
  
Shocked, he growled her name and reached for her. Shaking him off, she stood and headed up the stairs.  
  
"If that bothers you, Logan, do something about it."  
  
When she reached her room and opened the door, Buffy was shamed. Once again she was moved by his gesture and reminded of the things he did for her. This was just one of many. She knew she was being ridiculous and a coward, but pride would keep her from confessing it, at least for a while. She needed to clean up the room, and she needed some busy work to stop her from running back into his arms and begging for his forgiveness like a clingy little girl. This was the perfect time to get it done.  
  
Pulling the flat sheet off of her bed, she laid it out on the floor began picking up piles of petals and depositing them on the sheet. Why was she so hung up on the sex thing? She had been willing to forgo sex to be with Angel two years ago, or so she'd thought at the time. But she knew the answer to that. She hadn't known what it was like to wake up in a lust- induced cold sweat, her belly cramping; the muscles fisted and twisting. She ached for Logan night and day. If he wanted her half as much as she wanted him, and yet could still hold out, then he was a man of deep conviction.  
  
But why should either of them suffer?  
  
She looked out the window and saw Bobby and Marie holding hands, sitting on the teak bench in the quad below. How horrible would it be to never be able to touch or be touched? Suddenly, her miniscule issues with Logan seemed so insignificant. She could live without touching most people, but to be in love with someone and never feel the pressure of their lips, the warmth of their skin beneath your hand, or their hand skimming yours, would be absolute torture.  
  
Unexpectedly inspired, Buffy pushed open her window and removed the screen. Leaning out the window, she called, "Hey Love Bunnies!" and waved. They waved back, laughing at her silliness.  
  
Because of the sheer bulk, Buffy had some trouble shoving the overstuffed folded sheet through the third story window. But once it was on the outside of the house, she leaned out, released two corners and shook the two corners still in her hands. A few petals fell like rain, others were caught in the trees, but most were stolen by the wind and slowly blown in a circle around the courtyard and the couple below.  
  
Logan stood quietly gazing out the kitchen window at Marie, Bobby, and the patterned grey slate patio blanketed in rose petals. A handful were picked up here and there, stirred by the breeze, but most were carpeted beneath the feet of the swaying couple. They had no music and a layer of clothing between them, but they didn't seem to notice.  
  
As soon as he'd heard Buffy shout, he'd gone into the kitchen and watched the petals falling on Bobby and Marie and their reaction. Somehow, in that moment, he knew that everything was going to be alright.  
  
To no one in particular, Logan smiled and said, "That's my girl.  
  
(end chapter)


	21. Twist and Turn

ANs: Pull out the new kleenex box, y'all. For the next chapter or so, you might need it.

Ginger: Hey bebe! So glad you like it! I hope that I've improved over time and that you continue to enjoy it. As I mentioned, it's about to get a little rocky, but all will be resolved at the end. Hang in there:)

Krazy Babe: Ask and receive, honey. I'm glad that you liked the last chapter. This one took a little while, and I hope that you like it just as much.

Hugs! sita:)

Twist and Turn  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
July 30, 2000 10PM  
  
Logan was in over his head. He knew that mutual, simultaneous love was supposed to be good. At least that's what the movies claimed. But this much good bordered on the absurd and it made him more than a little uneasy. While he had endured a few little squabbles with Buffy, he had yet to find any of her major flaws. _They had to be there, right?_ He had plenty. And it wasn't as if he hadn't been looking closely. But so far, no dice. Maybe this was what people meant when they said love was blind.  
  
He chose to tell himself that she was destined to be his wife, as to do otherwise would have made it impossible to keep his promise to Giles and their secret from her. Underneath it all, he believed that she could handle it. He believed that ultimately she would do the right thing and continue on as the Slayer, despite her dream to someday live like a 'normal girl'. He also knew that he was the worst kind of full of shit hypocrite for keeping this from her. But, if she knew the truth, it was conceivable that in a fit of anger she might insist on the reversal of the spell. She also might resent him for his part in keeping the secret and turn her back on him for good. And to Logan, just the thought of that felt like a cruise missile to the chest.  
  
The worst part was that she made him want to be a better man. With her, he wanted to move beyond his past and the circumstances that had shaped him. Not that he wouldn't willingly destroy anyone who tried to hurt her, that was a given. But slowly over the past few months, he began to realize that he had to try to meet her halfway. He never knew that being in a relationship required so much thought. But if that was what she needed, he would do his best, even if it meant taking romance tips from Rogue and crap from Scott.  
  
When he came to live at the school, for the first time in his memory, he had begun to care what other people thought of him. But his need to look good in Buffy's eyes blotted out any desire he had for respect from his friends. By some miracle, he was the luckiest Joe on earth. He'd heard somewhere that it wasn't hard to find a good woman. The hardest part was keeping her. And because of that, he was trying to be what he thought she wanted. For example, although he wasn't a sharing kind of guy, he found himself lying on the couch with her in his room, listening to her and answering her questions as well as he could.  
  
They had just finished watching _Notorious_ which was an old Hitchcock film that Buffy said was about US spies working against Nazis in South America. She'd failed to mention that the spy stuff was just a cover to get guys to watch a love story. He hadn't minded too much, until she wanted to talk about it.  
  
Buffy sighed, "I think that Devlin fell for Alicia the first time they met, don't you?"  
  
"Mmm-hmm," was all that Logan could think to say. Looking down at his woman, he noticed a bite mark on the right side of the base of her neck. Why hadn't he seen that before?  
  
"Logan, are you listening to me?" she asked impatiently.  
  
"Wha... yeah, of course I was." Then touching her scar, he wondered aloud, "What happened here?"  
  
Buffy hesitated and sat up, covering the scar with her hand self- consciously.  
  
I can't believe that you let a vamp get that close, is all," he teased, lamely trying to distract her from her apparent distress.  
  
"Can we talk about something else? It was a long time ago, and I'd really rather not go there." she asserted sharply.  
  
"Ok, if that's what you want," he agreed. But he didn't like not knowing.  
  
Over the next few days, he had tried to let it go. He knew that he should. No good could come from talking to Buffy about it, as she had remained firm and was clearly going to continue keeping it from him. But he had to admit that they were at an impasse. Despite the secret that he kept from her, the scar gnawed at him. He didn't like that she had a secret, too. If it were a simple matter of some vamp getting the best of Buffy, she would have admitted it. Something else was going on, and he decided to find out what it was before she went back to school.  
  
One morning after returning from a run through the nearby woods with Buffy, he went to his room to shower and change. Sitting down on his bed, he eyed the telephone warily. He knew that he could coax Giles into telling him, but if Buffy found out she would be more than a little upset with both of them.  
  
He shrugged it off and dialed the number anyway.  
  
"Hello," Giles answered.  
  
"Hey Giles, it's Logan. I've got a question about Buffy."  
  
"About Buffy? Is everything alright? Are things not going well between the two of you?"  
  
"Yes, fine. But I want to know about her scar."  
  
"Well..." Giles hesitated, "Buffy has quite a few scars... is there one in particular?"  
  
Logan interrupted, feeling impatient and agitated, "The one on her neck where... that... vampire drank from her."  
  
Giles sighed, and through the telephone Logan could hear him take off his glasses, clean them and put them back on. "So Buffy told you about that, did she? You must be getting along swimmingly for her to talk about that horrible business. I suppose it would seem a bit convoluted. But you must understand she'd already sacrificed so... done so much to restore him to health. And when Faith shot him with the poisoned arrow..."  
  
Logan stopped listening at 'restore him to health'. Of course, it was Angel. It had always been Angel for Buffy. Even when she was with Riley, she was obviously still in love with Angel. Logan tuned back in to Giles when he caught the Englishman mutter 'nearly drained her dry'.  
  
"Sorry Giles, what was that? Static on my end..."  
  
"Oh yes... of course, well... Angel was dying and the only antidote for the poison was a Slayer's blood. Buffy tried to subdue Faith and bring her to the mansion where Angel was residing, but Faith escaped. So Buffy gave herself to Angel. He fed on her and nearly drained her dry. Then he took Buffy to the hospital. Well, I can tell you that Xander, Willow, Oz and I were furious when we met him there. After an infusion of blood, Buffy was better right away, but the scar has never faded. I suppose Buffy left some of the messier details out? She has a way of doing tha..."  
  
Logan cut him off, "Yeah, thanks Giles. I'll be in touch."  
  
Not for the first time in his life, Logan regretted his actions. But this time, he knew he would pay for his mistake more than any other. He wanted to go to Buffy and confront her. He wanted Buffy to tell him that she loved him more. He wanted Buffy to say that she would willingly lay her life down if he had been the one dying. He wanted to go to Buffy and confess about the mating spell. He hoped that she would be able to forgive him. Keeping a promise to Giles was one thing, but he'd gone behind her back to ask about the scar. He asked himself, she would forgive me, wouldn't she?  
  
"Maybe not," he whispered.  
  
And yet, he needed to purge this. His tolerance for bullshit was swiftly reaching its limit. If they were going to make a go of this relationship, she should know everything. He just had to choose the right place and time. And he needed to figure out a way to tell her.  
  
Later that night, Buffy was seriously irritated. Logan obviously had something on his mind. He wanted to talk to her but he kept putting it off. They had worked out with a vengeance all day: running, weight lifting, sparring, and she didn't have the benefit of his seemingly instant recovery.  
  
She had put her pink satin pajamas on, but he was still in his white tank top, old worn jeans, and dingy white socks. His scuffed boots were on the floor next to her bed. For a guilty moment, she wished that he had some fashion acumen, but she reasoned that the two strong arms wrapped around her were a decent substitution.  
  
If only he would let her go to sleep.  
  
"Buffy, I think we need to..." Logan began slowly.  
  
"Logan, the longer you keep me awake, the more you're becoming my least favorite person. Can't we talk tomorrow?"  
  
Logan pulled her closer against him and whispered, "Sure, darlin'. I'll just stay until you fall asleep."  
  
Logan hadn't meant to go to sleep. But he wasn't worried about it either. Since starting his relationship with Buffy earlier that summer, he had slept easier. It was as if Buffy was a soothing balm on his torn and tattered soul, and he loved her all the more for it.  
  
But tonight he dreamt of Buffy and Angel.  
  
At first, it was only flashes of them talking and laughing. His mind shuttered across the sight of them dancing together and Angel putting his hands on Buffy's shoulders in the board room. When Buffy covered Angel's chalk white hands with her tiny tanned ones, Logan had felt anger roll through him. Until recently, he didn't know the reason.  
  
Then, Buffy was standing in the middle of a fire lit room. She reached up, unbuttoned, and pulled the neckline of her shirt over. From the shadows, Angel stalked her, circling closer, until finally he stopped behind her. Logan tried to call out to Buffy, to save her from the vampire and from herself, but his voice didn't work. He tried to rush between them, to block the attack, but his body wouldn't let him move. So he just stood still, struggling against this impotent paralysis, while Angel kissed his woman from her lips to her neck. Then lifting slightly, Angel's face altered and the demon within took over. Grinning at his victory over Logan, Angel said, "She's was mine first and she always will be." Then he slowly lowered his bared teeth to Buffy's neck and pierced the skin.  
  
Hours later, Logan stirred. Just before waking, he smelled Buffy's blood. For a moment, he was relieved. She was no longer fertile, at least for a while, and the driving need that rode him to make love with her would be lessened. Then he realized that there was too much blood. It permeated the air all around him.  
  
Shaking, he bolted upright and was sickened by what he saw. Buffy's bed was ripped apart. He was lying in the middle of it, but Buffy wasn't there. Instead, gashes left by his claws marked the mattress and wooden headboard, and the sheets and pillow were stained and in shreds around him. Looking down at his fists, he knew the blood wasn't his. He had Buffy's dried blood on his hands.  
  
He staggered into the hallway, and cried out for her, "Buf-fy!"  
  
Everyone who heard him stayed behind their bedroom and office doors, pretending they had not. The staff members and students who knew what had happened did not want to give him the news. Those who did not know what had happened to Professor Logan's girlfriend knew better than to step out into the hall and risk his wrath.  
  
Running toward the infirmary, Logan heard Xavier's voice in his head saying, "Logan, she's not that way. I'm in my office... I can tell you where she is."  
  
"Where. Is. She!" Logan roared at the top of his lungs, as he hunched lower and his claws snapped out.  
  
Xavier spoke to his mind again, "Try to calm down, Logan. Buffy is alive. Just come down here..."  
  
Suddenly, Professor Xavier's door slammed open, and a seething Logan stepped inside.  
  
"Well!" he demanded angrily.  
  
Xavier studied his friend for a few seconds. His claws were still extended, and his fists tightened and opened at an uneven staccato. Logan's face was a mask of internalized fury, and even though he must have known that she was not there, his eyes traveled over every corner of the room. "Well, where the hell is she?"  
  
"Buffy has gone home, Logan."  
  
Logan's claws retracted sharply, and he stepped forward aggressively, "What? When?"  
  
"Logan," Xavier intoned gently, "Why don't you sit down?"  
  
Confusion, remorse, and then dejection crossed Logan's face, "Yeah... No! Just tell me, man."  
  
Xavier nodded as Logan dropped into the seat in front of the professor's desk. "At about 1AM, Buffy was cut and stabbed through the back by your claws. She got as far as Scott's door and woke him before passing out. Scott rushed her to the hospital, and on the way contacted her mother, Mrs. Joyce Summers, and myself. Buffy's mother was insistent that as soon as Buffy was stable, she was to be transferred to Sunnydale General on our jet. The doctor's cautioned her about the risk, but knowing that our jet could have Buffy to Sunnydale in less than an hour, she insisted."  
  
"But why didn't anyone bother to wake me? Didn't you think that I would want to be with her?" Logan challenged fiercely.  
  
"Yes, of course, Logan, don't be ridiculous," Charles Xavier agreed testily. Then, taking a breath, he eased the harshness in his tone, "I wanted to wake you, but I am not Buffy's family. Put yourself in Scott's shoes. Buffy comes to your door in the middle of the night. She's cut and bleeding. At what point do you think to notify her attacker? Would you invite him along to the hospital, even if he is a friend? I think not."  
  
Logan started to stand, and then sat back down. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows irreverently on the desk in front of him and scrubbed his face with his hands.  
  
Looking up, he admitted the truth, "No, I would kill the bastard."  
  
"Yes, I know you would have, but you are still here and Buffy is alive. Her mother has forbidden any contact between Buffy and anyone at the school except for Scott. She has asked most specifically that you stay away from her daughter. I know your first instinct is to rush to Sunnydale, but I think that under the circumstances that would be a bad idea. Why not allow the Summers' this time to heal. Give them some room."  
  
Numbly, Logan nodded his ascent, slowly stood, and dragged himself out of the office.  
  
From down the hallway, he heard Professor Xavier muttering to himself, "Things seemed to be going so well, if only this hadn't..."  
  
Logan walked back to Buffy's room to face what he had done. As he passed Scott's door the scent of Buffy's blood in the carpet stung him. Although the blood had been efficiently removed by the cleaning staff, if he focused, he could still detect it behind the chemical solution. He walked through her door and relived what must have happened.  
  
In doing so, he was momentarily distracted from his intended self-inflicted punishment. All of her things were still there. He checked drawers, and her clothes were still folded inside. More clothes and shoes were in the closet. He assumed that Scott and Ororo had flown Buffy in the jet and would be back in a few days to pack everything and send it to California.  
  
On the floor near the bed, he saw Buffy's stuffed pig, Mr. Gordo. Trying not to think about the blood on the sheets for a moment, he gently picked up Mr. Gordo, pressed the toy to his face, and inhaled Buffy's clinging scent. A perversely irrational thought crossed Logan's mind and he decided to go with it. Scott could send everything else. Mr. Gordo was going nowhere.  
  
For the next ten days, Logan didn't know what to do with himself. He walked around in a muddled fog. On Sunday morning, he found himself disoriented, walking aimlessly through the halls after a brief run-in with Scott. Prior to this argument, Scott had been doing his best to ignore Logan.  
  
Finally, Logan couldn't stand it anymore. He'd walked right up to Scott and asked about Buffy's recovery. Scott warned him to stay away from her. When Logan asked him if he thought he or anyone else could stop him from getting to Buffy, Scott's reply had haunted him.  
  
Scott had looked at him derisively and said, "No more than you can stop hurting her."  
  
Unexpectedly, Logan looked up and realized that he had wandered to the front of the gym door. Pushing through the swinging double doors, he walked over and stopped directly in front of the punching bag. A desire to hit something lifted his fist and slammed it into the bag. Logan grunted, as he began hammering the punching bag with both hands. He felt his knuckles split but ignored it. As he continued to work the bag, blood trickled, patterning down his arms, and splattered on his grey shirt, jeans, and the mat beneath him.  
  
He would let her run away. He'd let her run for as long as he could. If he were a good man, he'd let her run forever. Her mother was right to take her away. She should have gone home long ago. She should have gone back to Angel. It was clear that he still loved her. The vampire could have left Sunnydale for anywhere in the world, but instead remained close to her, only two hours away. Somehow Angel already knew what he had just come to realize.  
  
Angel was the one she was truly destined to be with, no matter what Giles said.  
  
(end chapter)


	22. Doomed

ANs: We're skipping a summer as Buffy will be dead. This is the first of three mini chapters to get us beyond the season five deaths and the start of six Buffy resurrection. After these three, chapter length will resume to the usual, whatever that is. AN Personal responses on Resurrection. Hugs! sita:)

Doomed  
  
Alkali Lake, somewhere in the Canadian Rockies  
  
December 18, 1980 midnight  
  
Colonel William Stryker picked up the phone and dialed the overseas number. After many weeks of drug research, testing, repeated failure, and deliberation, it was clear that Travers held the key to the only remaining viable option.  
  
A stoic, crisp British voice answered on the second ring, "Yes, Stryker?"  
  
"Travers, we are willing to try your solution. Send me the amount and the account number."  
  
"Very well. You won't be disappointed."  
  
"Oh and one more thing, Travers. We were wondering... what happens if the control should die before the completion of the experiment?"  
  
"You had better hope she does not," Travers answered sharply.  
  
"Of course, but life is fragile. Humor me..." Stryker drawled.  
  
Clearly out of patience, Travers snapped, "Does the name of the spell not tell you everything you need to know? If she dies before the final level of sealing is complete and your test subject does not, he won't die right away. But he will be useless to you... and may God have mercy on his miserable, wretched soul."


	23. From the Meltdown to the Apocalypse

ANs: Buffy's last season 5 speech to Dawn is quoted in this text. Although I've really tried not to 'borrow' show lines, it's so beautiful that I felt compelled to use it. Again, all disclaimers apply. As I've said, I didn't write that particular speech, I've just adjusted it slightly to work in this context. Also, the spacing in ff.net's doc manager is screwy and I can't get the editor to work properly. But if you read carefully and pay attention to the dates, you should be able to get the gist. Personal responses next chapter, which should be later today or early tomorrow. And then I'm taking a day off and a huge nap. Hugs! sita:)

From the Meltdown to the Apocalypse  
  
1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, CA  
  
March 6, 2001 7AM  
  
Buffy woke to the sound of Dawn crying for the third time since they had fallen asleep. She had been sleeping in Dawn's room for almost a week, since the night Dawn had tried to raise their mother from the dead. Dawn slept still, and Buffy was moved by her sister's ability to mourn ceaselessly, even through her dreams. Reaching over, she wiped her sister's tears from her cheeks and pulled her close, but Dawn groaned and rolled away.  
  
Buffy was almost back to sleep when she heard the phone ringing downstairs. She struggled out of bed and into the hall. Tripping over the stairs in a downward motion, she heard Xander answer the phone. Due to the incessant calls from her mom's friends and distant relations, Willow had unplugged the phones upstairs a few days before. In a daze of sleep deprivation, Buffy forgot that they were still there. Although, she acknowledged to herself later post-coffee, as her eyes had been closed until she reached the foot of the stairs, she probably wouldn't have been able to match up the plug to the outlet anyway.  
  
She had also forgotten that Xander and Giles were coming over early to help move the boxes of her mother's things to the attic.  
  
As she moved from the bottom step to the floor, she heard Xander saying, "This house is in mourning, man, so very not the time." And then the conversation was over.  
  
Buffy crossed the foyer into the kitchen. When Xander saw her, he stammered, "Uh, hey Buff!"  
  
"Who was that?" Buffy asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.  
  
Giles handed her a cup of coffee, and Xander continued to stammer, "Uh... that was... just a salesman. No big. So... do you want to take Dawnie to the Espresso Pump or something while we do this?"  
  
Buffy nodded dejectedly, "Yeah... maybe I'll ask Willow and Tara to come, too."  
  
1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, CA  
  
March 13, 2001 2PM  
  
Giles brought groceries in through the back door of the Summers' home just as the phone started to ring. Deciding to let the machine get it, he opened the refrigerator and began filling in the depleted produce.  
  
After the tone, a familiar voice spoke, "Buffy, it's me. I heard about your mom. I don't want to bother you, but if you need anything, I'm here."  
  
Stunned by the intrusion into his thoughts, Giles hesitated. With Joyce's death so fresh, and Buffy's hesitation about returning to active training, any distraction at this point would give his Slayer an excuse not to face the future without her mother. She might even want to take another holiday to New York, Giles thought. Buffy needed to focus if she was to have any chance whatsoever of protecting Dawn against Glory. Giles knew that Buffy still loved Logan, and that she was hurt that he had never called after the incident that hastened her return to Sunnydale. Logan also had sounded sincere in his desire to help her, but there would be plenty of time for patching up their romance later.  
  
After making that executive decision, Giles did the only thing a responsible Watcher could. He pressed the machine's play button and then the delete.  
  
1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, CA  
  
April 15, 2001 9PM  
  
Xander, Anya and Dawn were in the dining room playing Monopoly, waiting for Buffy to return from slaying. Anya, drunk with impending victory, picked up another hotel and added it to her collection on Park Place. Xander and Dawn looked at each other and moaned dramatically. There would be no living with Anya for the rest of the week. Her love of money was renowned, but her painful and prolonged capacity to gloat was legendary.  
  
Just as the phone started to ring, Xander selected the Chance card condemning him to jail. Dawn started to stand up, but Xander waved his hand at her.  
  
"Not to worry, Dawn, I'll get it. I'm not going anywhere for a while anyway." he said as he headed toward the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he heard Anya call out to him. She was offering to sell him her 'Get Out of Jail Free Card' for $500.  
  
Dawn grimaced her disapproval and mumbled, "$500 isn't free." Then she shrugged and picked up the dice to roll.  
  
A few minutes later, the girls heard Xander yelling in the kitchen. As she walked in, Dawn heard him say, "Look, if she hasn't called you, take the hint. Leave her alone." Then he slammed down the phone.  
  
"So who was that? Spike doesn't usually call," Dawn asked.  
  
"It was that jerk, Logan. Guy needs to move on," Xander scoffed.  
  
Dawn nodded, understanding Xander's outrage perfectly. "He cut her back to bits! You guys saw... He's been calling here for weeks, like he's trying to get her to get back together with him. I just delete the messages. Like Buffy's really up for another round with the clawed wonder."  
  
Giles' apartment, Sunnydale, CA  
  
May 23, 2001 9PM  
  
Giles heard the phone ringing, but he couldn't get up. He'd been drunk for almost twelve hours. When his machine answered the call, he heard a worried Charles Xavier on the other end.  
  
"Giles, are you there? I fear something terrible has happened to Buffy. I can't locate her with Cerebro, and Logan..."  
  
Giles rolled over with serious objections to Charles' intrusion cleaving to his dehydrated tongue. In the moment, he didn't care to face reality, and he definitely didn't care about Logan or any of his trifling issues.  
  
"Oh what is it, Charles?" he snapped drunkenly.  
  
Professor Xavier was taken aback. He certainly wasn't used to being spoken to in such a rude manner, especially by someone he considered a friend. And so he focused his energy, reached out to Giles' mind, and pulled from him the worst news imaginable.  
  
"Dear God," Xavier sighed, "She's dead. No wonder Logan's taken to his room and won't come out. He's licking his wounds... but how could he have known..."  
  
Giles sat up slowly and wiped the dried and fresh tears from his eyes. He'd barely heard what Charles had said, and he really didn't care to.  
  
"Yes," Giles sighed impatiently, "As are we, Charles. She sacrificed herself for Dawn. She sacrificed herself for us all."  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
June 8, 2001 1PM  
  
Rupert Giles wanted to be anywhere but where he was. No, that wasn't quite true. He wanted to be home in England mourning Buffy with a bottle of old Scotch or in Sunnydale mourning Buffy with his friends. The last place he wanted to be was in Westchester, NY, standing outside Logan's bedroom door. But Logan had shut himself away in a full-out pout, and Charles Xavier didn't know the meaning of 'Good God, man, leave me in peace'.  
  
Knowing full well that Logan would never open the door for him if he had not done so for Charles, with a shaking hand Giles reached out and took possession of the knob. Turning it quickly, he pulled the door open and stepped into the wolf's lair. The room was torn apart. Not a single piece of furniture stood unbroken, all of the upholstery fabric was lacerated into a thousand tiny pieces that littered the floor. Bright light poured in through broken windows, the drapes and shutters had been pulled down and shredded, and Giles noticed that the floor and all of the walls were scored in dozens of places by Logan's claws.  
  
Giles began to slowly back away, until the huddled lump under the ripped cover on the floor moved. "So she's dead..." muttered the lump.  
  
Giles cleared his throat nervously, "Yes, she went toe-to-toe with a hell goddess and won. But it was too late..."  
  
"The portal... yeah, I've seen it in nightmares..."  
  
Giles stepped closer and began to sit down on the edge of Logan's torn mattress.  
  
"Giles, stay the hell away from me!"  
  
Giles sighed, "Logan, we did the best we could to protect, and then to save Dawn. Buffy made the decision to sacrifice her life in place of her sister's... I thought you might like to hear Buffy's last words... I've brought them just in case..."  
  
For a long time, Logan said nothing. As Giles turned to leave, he heard a low hiss from beneath the tattered blanked, "Tell me."  
  
Turning around, Giles fumbled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. As he unfolded it, he began to speak. "I asked Dawn to write this down for me. She remembered it verbatim..." Pausing for a moment, Giles cleared his throat again, as tears burned behind his eyes, "Buffy said... 'Dawn, listen to me. Listen. I love you. I will always love you. This is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles I figured it out and I'm ok. Give my love to our friends and family. Tell Logan that I love and forgive him. Dawn, you have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing you have to do in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me.'"  
  
Hesitating for a moment, Giles took a deep breath. He had been so blind. He'd never thought to research what Buffy's death would do to Logan or vice versa, before they actually mated. He assumed that if one died, then the spell would be broken for the remaining mate. He would conduct further research when he got home... "Logan, if you'll allow us to... you can come to Sunnydale and mourn with us. We can help each other through this."  
  
Logan's bedraggled form slowly rose until he was standing. His claws snapped out and he snarled, "I've had a stomach full of your help, Giles! If not for your help, Buffy would be alive. We would be together. We were headed that way on our own. Buffy and I would have made love last summer and she would have been locked to my side, sealed, unable to leave me. I need your help like a huge gaping hole in the head!"  
  
Giles blanched at Logan's venom for a scant second, and then walked toward the door. Stopping before he walked out, Giles looked back. "Logan, she knew what she was doing. She willingly dove into a... portal to... hell. If you think that any amount of pain or anxiety caused by a separation from you would have kept her from attempting to rescue Dawn and to save this sorry world, then you never knew her at all."  
  
Sunnydale Westside Cemetery  
  
July 31, 2001 a little after sunrise  
  
Willow and Dawn slowly ambled toward Buffy's grave. They really didn't want to be there. Both had been to see her several times since her death, but neither young woman wanted to talk about it.  
  
They had heard rumors, passed along by Spike, about a vagrant who wept and slept next to Buffy's grave. The rumors said that this man was a virtual endless fountain of blood and gave it up to the local vampire population without a fight, as long as the vampires didn't inadvertently step on or disrupt the grave. However, all were warned that this man had claws. A slow and ugly death was given to any who tested his resolve when it came to reverence for the burial site.  
  
Although Spike had never seen him there, everyone at the Summers' house that night knew who the vagrant was; and Willow and Dawn had offered to go and try to talk to him the next day.  
  
But when they arrived, Logan wasn't there.  
  
Approaching from behind, they found that the area surrounding Buffy's grave was covered in multi-colored rose petals. When they looked closer, they saw that scrawling words were scratched into the marble over the entire back of her headstone.  
  
Dawn couldn't believe her eyes. "My God. He did... all this. He must have really loved her... but if he did, how could he have..."  
  
Willow muttered, "It must have really been an accident, just like Buffy said."  
  
Kneeling down, raw tears for Buffy fell from Willow's eyes. "What do you think Buffy would have thought if she'd seen this? She'd have been so touched." Her hand shook slightly as she ran her fingers over the rough marks and whispered the words, "Loneliness. Beauty. Love. Pride. Fear. Regret. Injustice. Anger. Emptiness. Longing. Sorrow. Despair. Lost."  
  
Dawn began to cry as well, but then she shook her head and stepped forward as if she were trying to shake off her tears. As she did, she noticed more writing, and pointed it out to Willow. Along the four inch edge between the back and the front, from the left hand side, along the top, and down the right of the burial marker, he had written, "Where is she? Where am I? Where is our home? Not here under this rock or any other monument."  
  
Finally, walking around to stand beside Buffy's buried body, Willow and Dawn read the front. Although they said nothing at the time, both young women were captivated and confused. Only two new, deeply scratched words appeared in the empty space between the stonemason's heavy engravings. The headstone still read 'Buffy Anne Summers 1981-2001' at the top and 'She saved the world a lot' at the bottom. But beneath the words Willow, Xander, Giles, and Dawn had selected, 'Beloved Sister Devoted Friend', Logan had added his own sentiment, 'Precious Wife'.  
  
(end chapter)


	24. Resurrection

Personal ANs below. Hope everyone is adequately relieved. Hugs! sita:)

Resurrection  
  
Xavier School of Gifted Youngsters  
  
October 2, 2001 midnight  
  
He'd made peace with Scott. He was surrounded by friends. Logan was prepared to die in his sleep. Well, he admitted to himself, as prepared as a man could be who had the ability to immediately recover from any wound, before his mate died which slowly drained away his strength and carved out pieces of his sanity.  
  
And now he was mentally babbling. Frickin' great! Focus, Logan, he thought. You're about to meet your maker.  
  
He'd been so long without Buffy that Mr. Gordo had virtually lost all trace of her scent. He'd wept at her gravesite for weeks, not caring if vampires and other demons fed on him, until he finished her shrine. He hoped that she was watching over him and would be there to guide him to where she was, be it heaven or hell.  
  
Logan wanted to be buried in Buffy's casket with her, so she would never again have to be alone and he would never again have to stop touching her, but the funeral and cemetery people wouldn't allow it. Conservative, money grubbing, soul sucking bastards! Whose genius idea was it to bury lovers separately with two walls of wood and packed earth between them? Who were they to prolong his physical separation from Buffy? He wanted to be connected to her in all ways. Why was this so hard to understand? Anger had coursed through his body for the first time in weeks and all he could do about it was lie still and wait. Even his claws had abandoned him. So he had asked Xavier to find out if he could be buried along side her, with their caskets touching and a hole cut into the side of each, so her hand could be placed in his. The reply was what he expected. He wanted to buy a plot, a casket, a headstone, and would pay for a few extra services? That was definitely agreeable to all parties concerned.  
  
At last he was ready to be reunited with her in the next life, except death never came for him.  
  
When he woke in a cold sweat at 2AM with nightmarish visions of Buffy fighting her way out of a coffin, he thought that the final stage of his disintegration must be a complete mental breakdown. But something felt different. His body felt a little stronger. He stood up and padded softly over to the bathroom. How long had it been since walking was easy? Flicking on the light, he went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face from the basin. He still looked like hell. Dark circles rimmed his blood shot eyes as if someone had gotten in a series of lucky punches. Resigned once again to his fate, Logan laid back down and prayed for death.  
  
At 4AM, his body stirred to life. An ache crept through him slowly, first in his organs, then in his bones, and finally in his muscles and tendons, inch by painstaking inch, until his skin felt like it was bathed in fire. All he could think about was the erotic smell of Buffy's arousal, the rise and fall of her chest and stomach against his, the taste of her soft sweet skin, and the little purring sound she made when he kissed her. As his fingers tightened and relaxed, a shiver ran through him and his claws extended and snapped back once reflexively.  
  
Something was very wrong with him, and he struggled to find Xavier mentally. When no response came, he remembered the time. Testing his strength again, he stood and walked to the shower. He needed a cold shower to tame his body almost as much as he needed to rid his skin of the reek of illness. Under the cold spray, he realized that he had used his claws. Involuntarily, but they had worked. What the hell?  
  
After his shower, Logan stood in front of the closet and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and jeans, a white tshirt, socks, and his boots. While he was sick, he'd obviously lost some weight. His clothes were hanging loosely on him, not to the point of falling off, but he had plenty of room. It was clear he was no longer going to die, but what had happened? He understood that separation from Buffy had stunted his healing ability and he had contracted a common strain of pneumonia, but why was he suddenly well? Why had his strength returned almost fully in just a few short hours?  
  
While Logan was in Sunnydale, Xavier had ensured that his room was repaired and new furniture was installed. It was fine, but suddenly Logan realized that the stench of the wood sealant was awful, so he walked over and opened a window. Although it gave the faculty security team and the property manager fits, Logan liked to keep his windows open year round. He didn't particularly care for the fabricated fragrance of the lemon and pine cleaners the staff used, and he was forever trying to air his room out. When he was weak, he couldn't have cared less, but now that he needed to make a place for Buffy... No wait, he corrected himself sadly, Buffy was dead. He'd almost forgotten.  
  
Wasn't she?  
  
At 5AM, Logan couldn't wait any longer. He made his way to Charles Xavier's room and banged on the door. But there was no answer. From inside he could hear Xavier finishing a phone call.  
  
A few minutes later, Xavier opened the door and greeted him happily, "Logan, that was Rupert Giles on the phone. You'll never believe what has happened... by some miracle... and you're well so quickly?"  
  
Nodding and sighing with relief, he confirmed what his body already told him, "Buffy is alive."  
  
For a moment they were silent, each man in his own way comprehending and reflecting on the implications of Logan's swift return to health and Buffy's return from the dead.  
  
Then Logan flashed Xavier his most charming, devilish grin, and said, "Is there anything good to eat downstairs? I'm starving."  
  
(end chapter)

Divilish: Hey bebe! Re: Giles, yeah, he needs to get a love life of his own. If I were generous, I'd hook him up with Ororo, but I'm not… oh well. Hopefully the Scoobies will be able to stumble their way back into Buffy's good graces. I doubt Logan will be as forgiving:]

Ouatic7: I'm glad that you didn't cry too much:] Hopefully chapter 24 will make you feel better:]

Pay-day1999: Hey girl! I'm glad that I was able to surprise you. And don't worry, everything will be alright. Glad to see that you're hanging in there with this:]

Anna: Thanks bebe! I try. Also, re: Meltdown, don't feel too badly, I made myself cry when I wrote it. Hopefully you like the next chapter. More to come after the break:)

Prophetess of Hearts: Ah girl, you know I can't really put them together in complete bliss until Buffy's done in Sunnydale. The road to love is rough. But, we will have more happy bits soon:)

Alex97: Hey sweets! I thank you for your generous praise: -)

Queenfriz30: Nah darlin', just a little wayward Logan angst. This is a B/L fic, I promise:)


	25. 40 Paces

ANs: Ok, reunion at last. Hope you like! Btw, no political agenda when I cited Gaza as a war-torn environment. It was just the first thing that came to mind. Personal ANs next time 'cause this one wore me out. Hugs! sita:)  
  
40 Paces  
  
Sunnydale, CA  
  
October 3, 2001 7:00AM  
  
The central business district and the surrounding residential streets were smoldering. Smoke floated up from trash piles, cars, stores, homes, and bodies. The ever-efficient local cover-up agents, also know as the Sunnydale Fire, Police, and Waste Management Departments, had been dispatched but there was significant carnage and they had yet to clear most of the debris from the overnight demonic mayhem. Logan, Ororo, and Scott saw the destruction from the air.  
  
"So... this is life in Sunnydale three months after losing the Slayer? I've been here before to visit the girls and... for the funerals. It doesn't usually... It looks like Gaza on a bad day..." Scott confided.  
  
"I guess she won't be coming home with us," Logan grumbled.  
  
Scott nodded philosophically, "Probably not... We're landing in a minute. Do you want to go to Buffy's house immediately or do you want to find a hotel first? I assume you're staying overnight at least?"  
  
"First we go to the cemetery."  
  
Twenty minutes later, despite his protestations to remain in the car, Scott found himself in Sunnydale's newest graveyard. How did Logan always know the right buttons to push? This time, Scott had to admit he knew. Logan had employed a few smart ass questions that sounded less like questions and conspicuously more like a dare. Standing in the same spot he had occupied several months ago was uncomfortable enough, but this time the ground had been pulled apart and Buffy's coffin was empty. While he had seen some amazing mutant powers since arriving at Xavier's School, his mind reeled at the thought that a human could harness the power to return life to the dead.  
  
Crouching down over Buffy's empty grave, Logan lifted a handful of moist soil and sifted it through his fingers. Scott and Ororo stood behind him, watching and waiting.  
  
"Is there something here you needed, Logan?" Ororo prompted mildly.  
  
Logan shook his head. He turned back and looked up at her, his eyes full of anger. "Do you see what I see?"  
  
Scott chuckled, "Yeah, apparently my cousin got married and I wasn't invited to the wedding."  
  
"I was running a fever and... aw, just get over it." Logan growled and motioned toward the ground. "Look again."  
  
Ororo gasped and covered her mouth with one hand, "There aren't any shovel marks... the grave is barely disturbed. She tunneled..."  
  
Wavering slightly on his feet, as if he couldn't quite accept the evidence in front of him, Scott muttered, "My God, she woke up inside the coffin and had to..."  
  
Logan nodded. "I thought she might have. "Let's go."  
  
The drive from the cemetery to Revello Drive had been silent and tense, but as they pulled up to the house, Logan was truly shocked. He hadn't expected the formidable Slayer to live in such a Rockwellian home. With its large picture window with a view to the living room and a simple wooden door, it was barely defensible. Surely she saw that. He didn't have a preconceived, specific mental picture of what her house would look like, but he'd definitely thought it would be more like a bunker and less like the opening scene of a sitcom. He knew that before she was the Slayer she had led a fairly normal life, but that was in Los Angeles. She'd been the Slayer since before she arrived here. She would have been involved in the selection process with her mother. And what was it about this place that made her want to remain after her mother had passed away?  
  
As they exited the car, Logan could hear the shower running upstairs. It was Buffy. He could smell the soap mixing with her natural scent. Buffy was standing naked under a spray of hot water. He could almost see it cascading over her skin. Fierce need pounded through his blood and suddenly he felt slightly dizzy.  
  
On the porch, he caught more of her scent and others, Xander, Willow, and three other women. Two of the women he'd never met before, but there was something familiar about the third. It was like Buffy's but with subtle differences, and there was something else buried underneath. It was like lightening, or electricity running through wire. And then he understood; only someone who originated as a source of great energy could have such a scent. It was Dawn. As the door slowly opened, Logan recognized another familiar smell, the noxious stench of the blood-sucking walking dead. It wasn't Angel, but there was a vampire who was a frequent visitor to the Summers' home. He didn't like that at all.  
  
"Scott!" Dawn cried, as she threw her arms around her cousin.  
  
"Dawnie!" he laughed, as he happily accepted her hug.  
  
Pushing the door open wider, Dawn exclaimed, "C'mon on in, you guys." Then she saw Logan and gulped. There was something wild and predatory about him. It was in his eyes, in the air all around him. Recovering quickly, she added, "I thought that jet was supposed to be like super fast - took you long enough. Xander, Anya, Will, and Tara are out back talking about stuff I'm not supposed to hear. Can I... can I get you anything?"  
  
Dawn barely stepped aside in time as Logan made for the stairs. When he put his hand on the railing, Dawn quickly slid hers underneath his, and separated him from the wooden bar. Then she whispered, "Look, I know you want to go up there, but you need to understand some things about Buffy first. Just give me a minute, ok?"  
  
Logan was nearly undone by the gentleness of the youngest Summers' girl. Something about her reminded him of Marie. Maybe it was her mix of vulnerability and strength, he acknowledged. Nodding dumbly, he allowed himself to be led along with the others into the living room. As soon as everyone was seated, Dawn sighed.  
  
"Buffy's not the same as she was," she began, "not that she came back evil or wrong or zombie-ish in any way – but she's been through something major. She can't talk about it. All she said was that time passed much slower where she was. Willow thinks that she was in a hell dimension and that's pretty much the story everyone's going with. I don't know what happened to her, but when I found her, after she'd... after she'd dug herself out... she asked me if this was hell. I found her on the tower, and if I hadn't stopped her, she would have jumped again."  
  
"So what are you saying, Dawn?" Scott demanded.  
  
"I'm saying we need to be patient. She's still Buffy and she's still the Slayer. In fact," Dawn said, leaning forward with pride shining in her eyes, "last night, even though her hands were all torn up from digging, she killed a slew of demons that were starting fires and breaking stuff all over the place. But then when we got home everyone was talking at once and... you should have seen her eyes... they looked confused and scared at the same time, like the day when she came to pick me up at school and told me that Mom was dead."  
  
Dawn stood and walked over to stand directly in front of a still seated Logan. "If you go up there, be careful. Don't rush in... and run her over with your emotional baggage. Ok?"  
  
Logan nodded and moved past Dawn. That sounded like good advice and he genuinely appreciated it. Before he reached the stairs, Dawn confessed a little sadly, "Logan... she never knew you called."  
  
Inwardly stricken but outwardly detached, Logan paused for a second and then climbed the steps to Buffy.  
  
When she woke that morning, Buffy realized that it wasn't just some horrible nightmare. She was home, back on the Hellmouth, and everyone except Dawn and Spike expected her to act as if she wasn't in the least bit devastated and miserable. In fact, it was as if they were waiting impatiently for her to express her earnest and deepest appreciation for their bestowing upon her the gift of life. Knowing that the others were downstairs, Buffy had forced herself to get out of bed, take a shower and get dressed.  
  
As she reached into her closet to pull out her Nikes, she felt a chill and she just knew that someone vaguely familiar had come into the room. She heard him cross to the bed and casually sit down on the edge. Buffy whirled around and almost tripped over her feet when she saw him. He looked into her eyes and for a moment and something passed through them. Rapture. Hunger. Then it was gone.  
  
"Ww-where..." she stammered slowly.  
  
"Where did I come from?" Logan asked, as he reached a hand out toward her. Buffy didn't accept it, so he let it fall. "Sorry about the surprise. Scott, Ororo, and I just flew in."  
  
Buffy shook her head and approached timidly, "No... I was going to say..." Pausing for a brief moment just beyond his reach, she wrapped her arms around herself, and tilted her head to one side slightly, "where have you been?"  
  
Downstairs, Dawn was trying her best to keep her cousin and his friend entertained. She'd poured lemonade and put cookies on a plate, just like Mom used to do with her friends. But so far no one had touched any of it.  
  
Scott smiled and tried to end his cousin's distress. "So, what's the backyard meeting about, Dawn?"  
  
Dawn looked very relieved. "It must be about the latest big bad."  
  
"Big bad?" Ororo asked.  
  
"Yep. We've got a ghost or maybe a demon that can create scary hallucinations hanging around. No big. We'll deal."  
  
"I didn't know there was any such thing as ghosts," Ororo commented.  
  
Dawn just shrugged. "Sure. I mean, every weird legend you can imagine has shown up in Sunnydale at some point."  
  
Ororo seemed a little dismayed. "It must be difficult to live here."  
  
"It's alright. We're kinda used to it."  
  
In Buffy's room, Logan offered her his hand again, "I've been waiting for you to return my call."  
  
"Have you? I did-didn't know. No one told me..."  
  
"I called almost every day for five weeks from the minute I heard your mother died. Before that, I wasn't sure you wanted to hear from me. Did you?"  
  
Gradually she took the final step and cautiously rested her fingers against his palm. From this point of connection a shockwave of warmth passed through them. Logan brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. Biting back his outrage at the condition of her knuckles, Logan tried his best to appear calm.  
  
Buffy shivered slightly but did not retreat. She's as timid as a deer, he thought, as he tamped down his rising desire. He wanted so badly to pull her against him, but if he made a mistake now the damage could be irrevocable. I'll be grateful she's back, he decided. I'll pay attention to every detail now, so that when we're apart again I'll have something tangible to remember. He inhaled deeply and waited as the seconds dragged.  
  
"I did."  
  
He exhaled quickly, and pulled in another lungful of Buffy's sweet fragrance. "Why didn't you contact me?"  
  
Buffy smiled slightly and ventured a little closer. "I wanted to..."  
  
"But you were afraid? Darlin', I know I'm not good at apologies, but I would have tried. No matter what, I would never intentionally hurt you."  
  
Sitting down on the bed next to him, she blurted out, "It wasn't that... I didn't really know what happened. And then I was home and recovering and everyone was so protective of me and hostile... toward you. I didn't think that you meant to hurt me, but I couldn't convince them. Then I got well and I was caught up in slayer duties and the next thing I knew Mom was sick and Dawn and I practically lived in the hospital waiting room. And then she died. Logan, I came home and found my Mom dead on the couch downstairs and suddenly I had to take care of everything that she used to do. And during the entire time, Glory was searching for Dawn... and now I'm babbly Buffy..."  
  
Logan put his arm around her. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. I wish like hell I had been here. And then he smiled, "I like babbly Buffy. She's cute."  
  
"Not even close..." she began, but he stopped her protest by pressing a kiss to her forehead and urging her to lean back onto the bed with him.  
  
Buffy looked up at him with fascination. His sepia eyes were beguiling, filled with a combination of humor and heat. He was so ruggedly beautiful. She loved his dark heavy brows and his long, thick eyelashes. Even his unfashionably long side burns and strange haircut appealed to her.  
  
Suddenly, as the support of the bed met her body, Buffy felt a strange, overwhelming desire to see and touch him everywhere. Take your clothes off for me, whispered through her mind. Or... let me do it.  
  
Swallowing convulsively, Buffy tried to regain control of her wayward thoughts, but it was difficult with Logan so close. Her eyes dropped to his lips. Remembering the feel of them, soft and warm against hers, she lightly traced his bottom lip with a solitary finger. Scenting her restlessness and growing need, Logan lowered his mouth and dropped a light kiss onto her outstretched palm. Relaxing, Buffy snuggled nearer to him, as if only he could keep out the cold that had settled over her skin since her return.  
  
Logan risked the question that Dawn had raised earlier. "Was it very different where you were?"  
  
"Everything is so sharp here... and violent. The soft moments like this one almost never come... in this place. And when they do, they're mostly laced with other things, like guilt, sadness, subtext..."  
  
Surprised, Logan's mind worked furiously to understand. "So you were in a good place?"  
  
A tear slid down Buffy's cheek as she lifted her head to meet his eyes. "Logan, I was in the best place imaginable. I was in paradise."  
  
Logan lowered his eyes for a moment, then kissed her gently. "Like right now?"  
  
Lightening her mood came so easily to him. Buffy laughed, "Are you trying to seduce me?"  
  
"Why? Is it working?" he asked. Then he confessed with a wry grin, "No sweetheart, I was trying to be charming. Didn't pick up on that, eh?"  
  
"Well, it has been a while since I've been charmed."  
  
"Better prepare yourself. I plan to stick around for a little while... if you know of any hotels..."  
  
Forgetting herself, Buffy cried, "Really?"  
  
"Unless I can talk you into coming back to New York with me?" he angled.  
  
Buffy's face fell. "I'd like to..."  
  
Logan nodded his understanding. "But your sister and friends just got you back and Giles is on his way here from London."  
  
"You could stay with us," Buffy suggested, but she knew when she said it that he wouldn't accept.  
  
"Honey, I'd like to stay right here with you and never go anywhere else, but we have some hurdles to get over before we're ready to share a bed," replied Logan. Then with a wicked grin, he continued, "And I can't imagine sleeping on the downstairs sofa with Giles. He looks like a cover hog."  
  
Buffy laughed, "Right..."  
  
Logan started to stand and pulled her up with him. She protested softly, but Logan shook his head. "Your cousin and Ororo are downstairs. Your friends are having a meeting in the backyard that Dawn isn't supposed to attend. I need to get a hotel room, and you need to go be the Slayer."  
  
Never had she regretted being chosen more. If only she could leave her duty behind and return with him to New York. Just seeing Logan and absorbing his warmth for a little while had healed and strengthened Buffy in ways that she couldn't have predicted, and her friends would never understand. Silently, she chastised herself for doubting his devotion. Regardless of what her friends and family had said, she should have called him to let him know she was alright. She should have believed in him.  
  
Buffy reluctantly followed him downstairs. She hugged and chatted with Scott and Ororo for a few minutes before they had to go. Closing the door behind them, Buffy sighed and leaned against the wall.  
  
"Got it bad, huh?" Dawn teased.  
  
Buffy smiled, "Picked up on that, did ya?"  
  
"Well, he IS a total honey," Dawn exclaimed enthusiastically.  
  
"Think so?" Buffy asked.  
  
Dawn laughed at her sister and threw an arm around her neck, "Are you kidding? All that hottie-ness... Even though he's totally old, with just a look, he could drop me at forty paces."  
  
(end chapter) 


	26. Everyone's In Love With You

ANs: P's at the bottom. I'm sick to death of all of this happiness. It's making me crazy. Had to throw in some lusty angst. Sorry. Hope you love it anyway, and if you don't... just lie to me. A lot.   
sita:)

Everyone's In Love With You  
  
1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, CA  
  
October 5, 2001 7:00PM  
  
For the first time since her rebirth, Buffy felt love. She felt it in her skin, her hair, her bones. She knew her friends and Dawn loved her, as she loved them. But this was different. It sparked and blazed and she felt it from the moment she woke until she fell asleep at night. Every minute she was falling more deeply in love with Logan and she wanted desperately to believe that he felt the same. It had been so long since they had been together as a 'couple', and in her most reflective, candid moments Buffy didn't want to assume too much. He loved her, but maybe he wasn't in love with her anymore. Nope, she decided firmly, he was acting like a man in love. After all, he had let her drag him through two hours of accessory shopping that afternoon. He had even carried her bags without complaint. Not even Angel had done that.  
  
Buffy turned up The Shins playing on her CD player as she opened her closet door. Big date tonight - better hurry, she thought as she tried to focus long enough to pick out something to wear. Grabbing a cerulean blue tank and her new matching boots, she tossed them on the bed and then moved over to her pants section and flipped through the hangers. Whenever he was around, Logan seemed to muddle her thoughts. In fact, she had almost left the house today with two different mules on her feet.  
  
Luckily, Tara had run interference with Logan, distracting him long enough for Willow to grab Buffy and hand off the correct left shoe. It was a bold move, but Buffy was good to go before he turned around and Willow hid the offending shoe behind her back as they left. Giving Willow and Tara gentle low-fives on the way out and mouthing her thanks, Buffy took a moment to appreciate her friends and their ever-vigilant assistance.  
  
Which reminded her, Logan still refused to tell her who answered the phone when he had called 'almost' everyday from New York. But she really didn't need him to, as she had already asked Willow and Dawn if they knew anything about it. Willow had denied all participation and Dawn had remained oddly silent, guilt written all over her. Xander and Giles would definitely have behaved like mothering hens if the opportunity presented itself, so they made the short list. Buffy had jokingly offered to stake the perpetrators, but Logan said that he would handle it himself. She didn't know how she felt about that. She liked to take care of her friends' over-eager sense of loyalty immediately when it raised it's ugly head, and she was certainly more than up to the task; what's more, when he said it, something dark and dangerous flashed in his eyes for a millisecond. Concern must have crossed her face, as he distracted her with quick kiss.  
  
Oh well, she thought, as she hopped around the room tugging her black leather pants on, she hoped that Xander and Giles wouldn't be too badly bruised.  
  
Downstairs the doorbell rang and on semi-autopilot Buffy started to head for the stairs. Then she caught herself in the hall and smiled, realizing that Logan would get it. She didn't even have to yell down.  
  
Logan was prowling around Buffy's living room. He was anxious to get her some place where he could see the demons coming. And, he admitted to himself, he was brooding over what Giles had said. The man was absolutely inhuman. While Buffy was training in the back of the Magic Shop earlier that day, Logan had pulled Giles into the office. He was tired of waiting. He wanted to be with Buffy. They were mates. Everyone seemed to agree on that one. Clearly, mates should mate - otherwise, what's the point? Giles' argument against it was not what he wanted or expected to hear. Not at all.  
  
Logan slammed his fist down on the desk and the loud bang echoed around the tiny room. "Now, Giles!" he snarled. "She's mine. Mine! And I want her now."  
  
Giles stood and leaned forward over the desk, his arms angled slightly away from his body, palms flat against the smooth wooden surface. "Logan, you simply cannot be serious. She's only been out of the grave for... for less than 72 hours! The town is in shambles. She still has work to do here. Do you even have a place for her to live? A church selected for the ceremony? You do realize that young, single women dream about their weddings from childhood? You're not going to get away with a quick trip to Las Vegas on the road back to New York."  
  
"I don't care about any of that. She'll live with me Giles, wherever I am. I want her with me. In my bed. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Today."  
  
Giles was frustrated and angry. He was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but Logan was coarsely discussing Buffy like she was some brood mare ripe for the rutting. And if this man thought that he was good enough for such a sweet, wonderful girl... Logan needed to rethink his position. "She's not a doll you can drag around behind you. Have you forgotten what happened the last time Buffy's was in your bed? Have you given her feelings any consideration whatsoever? Sunnydale has been her home for years, and she was born and raised in California. Her sister and friends live here. Her mother is buried less than five miles from her house. Furthermore, Buffy is the only true soldier on the side of good in a town filled with evil. You've seen what happens when there's no Slayer on the Hellmouth. If it were you, would it be so easy to walk away?"  
  
Logan took a deep breath and bit back a curse. "Giles, it's not like I haven't thought about those things. But you can't imagine what it was like for me after she was gone... or what this waiting is doing to me. It's not just a little extra lust... and it's not all on my side. Because of my mutation and this spell, when she looks at me – even if she's across a room - I can feel her shiver and its impact is seismic. Her breath gets quicker and it sounds like an express train rumbling through her body. She blushes and I feel knives of heat radiating from inside her stabbing through my skin. Her natural scent drives me crazy, but as soon as the smallest thought about sex passes through her mind I can smell it and it's the sweetest, most painful drug imaginable. I can hear her every heartbeat, and when they get faster, my stomach ties into knots of brain altering... So don't sit there and judge me, Giles, because you don't have a clue."  
  
Giles stared at him for a few seconds in utter amazement, and then shook his head. "If that is the case, and there is nothing you can do to overcome it... perhaps you should return to New York as soon as possible. She's not ready and you're not thinking clearly enough to put her needs first. Until you do, I cannot support your... erm... coupling." Sensing Logan's rebellious streak surfacing, Giles softened his tone, "You're a grown man, Logan. You can do what you want and I can't stop you. But if you were Buffy's father, is the kind of life you're describing what you would want for her? Would you allow her to go into such a arrangement blind, without knowing what she's agreeing to?"  
  
Unexpectedly, Logan was shaken from his memories. Someone was pounding on the door. Even though he didn't particularly feel like company that wasn't Buffy, Logan went to answer it.  
  
Xander seemed surprised when Logan opened the door. "Making yourself comfortable?" he accused.  
  
Logan shrugged nonchalantly, "Always."  
  
Xander moved past him into the foyer. "So where are the girls?"  
  
"Willow and Tara went to the library. Dawn's at Janice's. Buffy is upstairs."  
  
Xander started to jog up the steps, but a heavy hand gripped his shoulder, bringing him to an abrupt halt. "...changing her clothes."  
  
Looking at him with distain, Xander shook off Logan's hand. "So? Wouldn't be the first time she's changed with me in the room."  
  
A low growl began to push its way up Logan's throat, when suddenly the front door handle turned.  
  
"What the..." Logan began, as a sinewy blond vampire in leather, with a profile like chiseled Greek marble strode confidently through the door, calling out, "Oi Buffy, feel like a bit of a slay..."  
  
Logan had sensed his approach and heard his footsteps on the front porch, but he was shocked when the vicious fiend just strolled in as if he owned the place. Didn't the women in this house know better than to invite an evil bloodthirsty monster inside? He was overcome by a sudden desire to take them by the shoulders one at a time and shake them. Hard. Maybe he'd do that after he decapitated the bastard in the overcoat.  
  
As soon as he saw Logan on the stairs, Spike stopped and smirked, "Well, if it isn't Big Fork Guy II: The Return of the Slayer Slasher." Then nodding toward the Xander, he continued, "This one's told me all about you..."  
  
Logan, irritated further, stepped down and Xander followed him and Spike into the living room. Xander dropped onto the couch and Spike made himself comfortable on the arm of a chair. Xander rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Here come the fireworks.  
  
Stopping in front of Spike, Logan sniffed the air, "You must be Spike. I was wondering when we'd meet. Picked up your filthy stench earlier – stale cigarettes and blood breath. Pungent." Pausing for a moment, he looked over at Xander, "'Course, I'm surprised Xander took his nose out of Buffy's butt long enough to mention me, or notice you."  
  
Xander was outraged. He sat up as if he were preparing to stand, his face stained red. "Hey Jo-Jo the dog-faced old guy, like you can talk about inappropriately placed noses. You've been sniffing around Buffy's skirts like she's a bitch in heat lately."  
  
Before Logan could respond, Spike smiled lazily, gestured to Xander, and drawled, "Besides, he's been all cozied up with Anya the raging capitalist for ages now. She used to be a vengeance demon, y'know..." Delaying for impact, Spike stood and continued, "But it's been awhile since Buffy's crawled - bleeding and screaming for help - away from you. Must be hard to keep up on all the latest..." Shoving a hand inside his duster and withdrawing a cigarette, Spike asserted, "What did you do trail her all the way home from the cemetery?"  
  
Xander jumped into the fray, "Yeah, Psycho, the pathetic canine stalker! What was that stuff you wrote..."  
  
"Shove it, princess," Logan snarled, as he whirled around and glared menacingly at Xander, "Like you haven't scribbled 'Buffy & Xander' and 'Mrs. Buffy Harris' with little hearts and flowers on every loose sheet of paper that's crossed your hands for years. And hey, excellent job, boys, preparing for Buffy's arrival... Did you at least bring some shovels to the gravesite, or were you hoping that she'd be so tired from clawing her way out that she'd fall on you by mistake and get you off?"  
  
Xander had the decency to look ashamed, but Spike proclaimed proudly, patting his chest, "The point is... She's back and she's mi-ours. Always has been, always will be..."  
  
"Spike!" Buffy shouted from the stairs.  
  
Logan chuckled under his breath but didn't turn around. Connecting with Spike and Xander's gazes, he whispered, "you're dead", and then relaxed his features as Buffy reached his side.  
  
Wrapping her hand possessively around Logan's forearm she glared at Spike, and pulled Logan toward the front door. "Light that cancer stick in here and you'll be in a world of hurt."  
  
Spike beamed at her. "I'll just step off the back porch then? By the way, where's lil' bit and the glittery enchantresses?  
  
"Out, but they should be home pretty soon. Except for Dawn. She said she might eat dinner at Janice's after they finish their school work," Buffy replied. Noticing him for the first time, Buffy said,"Hey Xand, where's Anya?"  
  
Xander frowned sullenly, "She's putting away the new book shipment with Giles. Where're you going?"  
  
"Dinner," Buffy replied, as Logan opened and guided her to the door. Grinning back at them before crossing the threshold, she offered, "If you guys get hungry, there are leftover hot wings and a pint of cow's blood in the fridge. Help yourselves."  
  
As soon as they got into the car, Logan said, "I thought for sure you'd hand Spike his head for what he said."  
  
Buffy smiled sweetly, "But honey, you said you didn't need my help. Did I dream that conversation? Hmm... I don't think so. Have you changed your mind?"  
  
Logan leaned over and bit the side of her neck in mock retaliation. "Just drive, smartass. I'm starving."  
  
Later that night, after everyone had gone home or turned in, Logan and Buffy were in her room cuddled up on the bed. Logan was leaning against her propped up pillows and Buffy sat between his legs. Logan kissed her neck softly, "They're all madly in love with you. You know that, right?"  
  
Surprise crossed her face and then she shook her head. Did they really need to talk about this now... or at all? "Who? Oh... I'm pretty sure Dawn and Anya are straight, and Willow and Tara only have eyes for each other."  
  
Nuzzling her shoulder, he sighed, "So you knew already?"  
  
"No, it's not... I really don't think that Xander and Giles are 'in' love with me."  
  
Logan looked skeptical, but he didn't comment further. Buffy continued, "They love me and they try, sometimes a little too hard and in the absolute worst ways, to look after me. It usually doesn't bother me too much because I do the same for them. Because of who we are, where we live, and what we do, we tend to be a little insular. Outsiders aren't easily trusted. I mean, you think what you've been through on the phone is bad – you should have seen how hard Willow went after Anya in the beginning."  
  
"I get that, which is why they're still around. And Spike..."  
  
"Spike is..." she hesitated.  
  
"...head over heels in love with you," Logan finished.  
  
"I don't know. He says he is, but I think it's just the loneliness. He was completely devoted to one crazy vampire chica for over 100 years and they broke up fairly recently... well... recently for vampires. He was pretty wrecked. I think it's just transference."  
  
"And I think you're kidding yourself, but if it doesn't bother you, why should it me?"  
  
Buffy nodded and kissed him softly, "Exactly."  
  
Logan groaned at the first taste of her tongue and poured urgency and heat into her mouth. Desire tore through him like a forest fire in the driest part of summer. Her alluring scent, sunshine on a field of wildflowers, called to him and he couldn't get enough. He pulled her higher and to the side to allow him better access to her. Buffy gave his demanding kiss back in equal measure. She turned in his lap and straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her hands slid into his silky hair and fisted as if she were hanging on for dear life. Pressing her breasts against his solid wall of muscle made her ache to be closer. He slid his hands under her tank top and around the back, clutching her velvety skin. She wiggled her hips against him until he spread his legs a little further apart; then she dropped lower and began rolling her hips, chafing her core against his hardened length. Buffy grabbed his shirt and tugged it out of his jeans. She gasped as a thin section of her bare stomach brushed over his soft lower chest hair. Her hands moved fervently up and she undid his top two buttons. His hands stopped her at the third. "Please," she whispered, "God, please let me take these off... I-I need to touch you..."  
  
"Christ, Buffy... don't ask me..."  
  
"You don't want..."  
  
"Buffy," he panted, squashing his forehead against hers to separate them, and to provide him with some stability. Then he pushed her forehead harder for emphasis. "There's nothing about you I don't want, including your body." Silently, he begged whatever gods were listening to slow the siren call of her pounding heart and to stop the flow of beckoning moisture, surging from the apex of her thighs. She smelled so damn good. It would be so easy to tear away the barrier to her and feast on her heat, just for a little while. "But as much as I want you, the rational part of me wants us to take our time because once we do this, you'll never be rid of me."  
  
"I don't want to be," she protested, a little too angrily.  
  
Logan hugged her gently, then turned her around until she was sitting on his left thigh, her legs stretched out across his other one. "You don't think so, but honey, I'm a lot to handle. I have terrible memories that come to me in dreams about being surgically tortured by a maniac. I shred beds a couple of times a year like paper..."  
  
This conversation felt startlingly familiar, and dark dread rose up her spine and grabbed Buffy by the throat, cutting off her air supply. Was he trying to break up with her? "I don't care about any of that. I can handle you."  
  
"You can," he said, as he cupped her face and kissed her gently. "I know you can. But I want you to be my wife. I want to marry you, Buffy. And when I do, I want you to come back with me to New York. I want you to leave here and let Faith protect the Hellmouth. Are you ready for that now? Because I can hardly wait. If you are... we'll seal this deal tonight."  
  
Buffy was completely overwhelmed. She didn't know what to say. No one had ever wanted to stay long enough to prove it to her by postponing sex. Certainly not Riley. Not even Angel. No one had ever wanted to love her this much. No one had ever looked her in the eye and offered her forever. But neither had anyone asked for such a monumental sacrifice, and the thought of Faith anywhere near her town made her nauseous. She'd no more leave Sunnydale in the hands of Faith than cross Main Street naked in the middle of rush hour.  
  
Wait a minute... she thought, as his words finally reached her pleasure overloaded brain. Quickly, she verified,"You really want to marry me?"  
  
"Buffy, I've been carrying our rings around in my pocket for sixteen months. And I'll carry them until you're ready to give this town to Faith."  
  
Buffy looked into his eyes, hurt underlying her next question. "Is that an ultimatum?"  
  
"No, it's an explanation," Logan shrugged. "I know how I'd feel if you asked me to stop looking after Xavier's school, the kids... These people have been good to you, Buffy. Plus, Sunnydale is your home. You've got territory to defend. I understand that; it's only natural you would be uncomfortable with the idea of leaving. We'll do this when you're ready. But I wanted you to know."  
  
Buffy nodded and snuggled into his shoulder. Praying that the gods of desire would allow her to survive that long, without dying from wanting him, she sighed. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Sugar now, sugar later – what did it really matter?  
  
Buffy decided to think about something else before she burst, and so she thought about what he'd said. Turning her eyes to his jacket on the chair, she asked absently, "You've been carrying all of our rings, including the engagement?"  
  
Logan laughed and nodded, and Buffy grinned mischievously.  
  
"Can I preview my rock now... Come on, just a peek?"  
  
(end chapter)

Personal ANs/Review Responses:

Pay-day1999: Hey sug! Everything is never alright in this fic, you know that. But I'm trying to keep the bumps minor for a while. Yeah, I think Logan was trying to tie up all of his loose ends before following Buffy to the next life. Re: 40 Paces, still not sure what I'll do about B/S. I just can't decide what would be the truest path for the characters. I'm down playing it with this chapter, but after Logan goes home, who knows? Not even me at this point. I have some twists and turns either way, though, so hopefully you won't be bored.

Alex97: Hey bebe! Back together, but trouble runs through the story anyway;)

Shadansa: Cool name, chica! I'm absolutely glad to hear you like it 8) Yeah, the non-rushing is a big hit with everyone. I wish that it wasn't. As I mentioned to a friend of mine today, smut's so much easier to write.

Trgerfanfrv: Hey sweets! Welcome to my reviews. Logan was saving his frustration for later. Just strap in and wait…

Anna: Sorry if you were confused, honey. There's more to the spell than Giles found, as you'll see later. Logan was dying because he was gradually losing his regenerative abilities because of Buffy's death. He caught pneumonia and his body couldn't fight it off. Kinda like HIV's affect on the average person's body. Also, he was miserable. He wanted to die in order to be with Buffy. I think that psychological health has a lot to do with healing.

Prophetess Of Hearts: Hey darlin'! Well, wouldn't you be preoccupied? I mean, she was in Heaven. Then she wakes up back in her body to find that she's been buried alive. I think she ran and didn't want to look back. She may see it later. We'll see.

Chase: Glad you like it. Rogue and Spike? It's a solid idea, but I probably won't do it. Maybe you should write it? Both characters are mostly window dressing. Merely decoration I use to move this pairing along and make it more interesting.

Cyndur: I'm thrilled to hear that you're enjoying this story. Have you read the ones at Twisting the Hellmouth? Besides mine, there are 7 others in this pairing. FYI:]


	27. The Burden of Joy

ANs: I've been thinking musically lately... "The Burden of Joy" is a line from a song I love called 'Touch You' by the Golden Palominos, from their 1994 album 'Pure'. The Golden Palominos were never a band, but rather a loosely organized parade of musicians and singers that varied from album to album. All of this beautiful chaos was orchestrated and produced by drummer Anton Fier. Remarkable dark poet Nicole Blackman contributed to the vocals on the 'Dead Inside' album, and one of my favorite singers, Lori Carson, appeared on 'Pure' and 'This is How it Feels'. I won't make you wade through the 'Touch You' lyrics, lest this be mistaken for song fic, but I do love the sound of the words. They are absolutely gorgeous and completely perfect for this pairing. Maybe I'll add it to my next B/L playlist... Anyway, unfortunately, the song's not on Napster, but if you're interested in reading the lyrics, they are cataloged at the lyrics central Well worth a visit! As to why I used the line for the name of this chapter, the meaning just seemed to fit. P's at the bottom. Hugs! sita:)  
  
The Burden of Joy  
  
Sunnydale, CA  
  
October 19, 2001 11PM  
  
She quivered as Logan leaned down and brushed his lips over the tender skin where her shoulder and the base of her throat met. Soft music played in the background. Buffy pulled him a little closer as they swayed, hooking her thumbs in the back belt loops of his jeans. "You're thinking about sex again," he laughed, mostly at himself and his reaction to her.  
  
"No," she denied, unconsciously shifting her hands up, resting them on the lower back of his black tshirt.  
  
"Yep. I can tell," he teased, nipping her shoulder playfully.  
  
"Am not."  
  
"What then?"  
  
Buffy smiled to herself perversely and decided she would tell him. He had asked, after all. She shrugged and his hands moved higher on her black silk halter dress. "Well, not actual sex... You tickled me with your whiskers just now. I was wondering what they would feel like running over the backs of my legs. I was just getting to the part where you scraped my upper thigh, nibbling... biting..."  
  
White hot pain and pleasure shot through his veins, seeping rivulets of lava into his muscles. He groaned and pushed his body against hers aggressively, "For Christ sakes' Buffy, have mercy."  
  
The music drew to a close. Despite the press of the crowd, Logan was completely preoccupied with her. She smiled against his clavicle, whispering, "Never."  
  
The music ended and Buffy led him from the dance floor toward the table where Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara were chatting amicably. Logan really didn't want to be there. Willow and Tara were alright. They seemed to be genuinely in love with each other and harmless enough to Buffy. Xander's thinly veiled rudeness was annoying, but Logan was no stranger to hostility and at least Xander was honest about it. However, Anya was something else all together. He knew that his social skills were rough, but hers were ridiculously non-existent. Assuming she meant well and that she was just weird, he tried to ignore her incessant chatter about money, but her frequent use of the word 'orgasm' made his whole body ache.  
  
"Remind me again why I agreed to do this?" he asked sullenly, holding her back.  
  
Buffy smiled and slipped an arm around him, trying to lure him nearer to her waiting friends. "Bedroom avoidance? Come on, the Bronze is great!"  
  
He lifted his eyebrows dubiously. Buffy moved in front of him, capturing his gaze and stealing his breath. No matter how hard he resisted, he knew that he could deny her nothing, unless it was detrimental to her health. He would protect her from herself, he acknowledged grimly, and that reminder of his usually pervasive independance afforded him a small measure of comfort.  
  
Wrapping his left hand in both of hers, she dropped a kiss on his knuckles and sighed, "It's not that bad."  
  
Logan kissed her forehead gently. "If I have to go back to that table, I'll need another beer. You want anything?"  
  
She shook her head and he escorted her back to her friends; then made his way through the tables to the bar. Laying five bucks on the polished wood, he caught the attention of a tall dark man behind the bar.  
  
"'Nother one?" the bartender slurred and Logan nodded once.  
  
On the opposite side of the bar, Logan noticed Spike settling onto a bar stool. As soon as he saw Logan, he smirked and made his way over. Just as Spike reached his side, the bartended picked up the cash and set a bottle of Budweiser in front of Logan.  
  
"Isn't there somewhere else you'd rather be? Torturing innocents or something... Oh, that's right, your leashed..." Logan irrupted derisively and then tipped his head back dismissively, taking a sip.  
  
Spike shrugged, ignoring Logan's animosity. "Sunnydale's a one-Bronze town. Not much else to do on a Friday night." Continuing, he glanced behind Logan toward Buffy and her friends at the table, "So, you're after the Slayer's heart as well? You wouldn't be the first to try and fail."  
  
"She's mine. That's all there is to it."  
  
Smirking, Spike waved his hand toward the dance floor. "You might want to tell her that."  
  
Instantly, Logan reached out for Buffy with his senses and the scent nearest to her enraged him. "What the hell..." he mumbled, as his eyes fixed on Buffy's body slowly dancing close to someone else. He didn't have to see the man to know who it was. Logan could smell the reek of death through the smoke-filled room.  
  
"Angel," he whispered tersely and stepped forward.  
  
Spike raised a hand to hold him back. "Piece of advice, for what it's worth, mate... our girl has no appreciation for rampant displays of jealousy. Now, my Dru would drop to the floor and wallow - rolling around in it, but that's another story... Best stay here until she's done. The poofta must have just heard she's back. Give her a minute..."  
  
He glared angrily at Spike but remained still. Hating the way Buffy was raising her ear to Angel's mouth so that she could hear him over the din, Logan nearly broke the bottle clenched in his fist. Bitter disappointment and gall lashed at his back. Icy adamantium blades pierced his skin, as the tips spasmed in and out until he shoved the emotions back down his throat. Slamming the rest of his beer in one swallow and laying cash down for another, he tried unsuccessfully to block out Buffy's conversation from his sensitive hearing.  
  
"Angel, what are you doing here?" she asked.  
  
Drawing Buffy closer, Angel murmured, "I called to check on Dawnie. She said you were back. When I asked to talk to you, she said you were here. With him. On a date. Is that true?"  
  
Buffy leaned forward, "It's true. Did you drive all the way down here because I'm back, or because I'm on a date?"  
  
Ignoring the question, Angel demanded, "Do you love him?"  
  
She pulled back a little, reviled, as Angel confirmed her suspicions. "You left. What did you expect?"  
  
"Answer the question, Buffy," he said accusingly, as he reached up and gripped her arm.  
  
Logan was at her side and shoving Angel's offending hand back before she could answer. "The lady's with me, bub," he snarled.  
  
Xander stood, but before he could move around the chairs, Anya and Willow both shouted, "Xander, no!"  
  
Angel smirked and stepped between Logan and Buffy, "Is she? Doesn't look that way."  
  
Suddenly, Logan took a swing and connected with Angel's jaw in a swift upper cut. Angel reeled up to his toes and stepped back, but remained on his feet. Buffy had had enough. Pushing Angel aside, she seized Logan's arm and jerked him toward the exit.  
  
Once they had reached a discreet distance from the door, she wheeled around. "What the hell was that?"  
  
"He's not to put his hands on you. Not ever," Logan shot back.  
  
"Get over it, Logan. I was handling things just fine until you decided to step in."  
  
Logan was livid. "The hell you were!"  
  
Buffy shoved past him and walked away, her high-heeled boots saucily ringing against the pavement. In vain, she tried to cool the rising tide of fury inside her. Who the hell did he think he was?  
  
Logan pursued her, but she kept walking. As he tried repeatedly to stop her, she dodged him and walked faster. "Back off, Logan!" she threatened. "I am so not in the mood for this."  
  
Logan was furious. So resentful, he couldn't see straight. "Oh, so I was supposed to just sit there and let him manhandle you?"  
  
"I had it under control. I didn't need help from you or anyone else in there!"  
  
"Like you had it under control the night he nearly drained you? He sent you to the hospital, damn it!" As soon as the words were out, Logan gasped, shocked at what he'd just said.  
  
Buffy stopped cold and reached out a hand to stop him, the back of her hand smacking against his chest. "What?"  
  
"Nothing," he mumbled.  
  
"Who told you?" she demanded, shoving him backwards, raging, "Who did you ask about the bite?"  
  
"Giles, but..."  
  
"But nothing," Buffy interrupted. "I cannot believe you would go behind my back, after I specifically asked you to leave it alone. And Giles... well, I'll deal with Giles later..."  
  
"Buffy, it wasn't his fault..."  
  
Buffy was absolutely disgusted. "Don't defend him. You're in deep enough - I am sick to death of other people deciding things for me. More than anyone else, you should have known..."  
  
"Buffy, you're right," he admitted quietly, turning away from her. "I was wrong. I just... I suspected that it was him and it was eating me up."  
  
Buffy kicked the ground with the toe of her boot. "Why are you so threatened by him? You could have come to me..."  
  
"I tried, but you... you wouldn't understand."  
  
Buffy walked over to him and searched his face for any sign that she was getting through to him. "Logan, I want this to work. I'm trying to make it work. But stuff like this makes me crazy. It hurts... to think that not only did you fail to respect my privacy, but after you found out, you deliberately kept it from me."  
  
He nodded remotely. The secret he held back from her about the curse weighed heavily on his conscience. "I never meant to hurt you."  
  
Taking his hand and lacing her fingers with his, she sighed. "Everybody says that. The thing is, you didn't mean not to hurt me. That's the point. Maybe you didn't set out to hurt me, but you didn't do whatever was necessary to avoid it, either."  
  
Stiffening slightly at her accusation, Logan rushed, "I do love you, Buffy. I'm not always good at it. But I do the best I can."  
  
Buffy lifted his hand and laid it against her cheek. Pressing a kiss into his palm, she said, "I love you, too. So much. And I don't do it perfectly, but we both need to try harder," she confessed.  
  
"I hate when we fight," he conceded.  
  
"So do I. But I need to... why... why was it so important for you to know," she fretted under her breath.  
  
Pausing, Logan pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. Not able to look into Buffy's eyes as he brooded over her connection to Angel, he slipped his fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp. "I can't stand the thought that you were willing to die for him, that you have a mark that will always remind you of how much you loved him."  
  
Buffy chuckled softly and he leaned back to look at her. "Are you laughing at me?"  
  
"No," she denied, shaking her head. "I can't see my neck... Give me your ring, Logan."  
  
"What?" he asked bemusedly.  
  
"I can't see my neck. The truth is, I rarely even think about it. But if I have your ring on my hand it will remind me of you every day, all day. If you are sure that you want to marry me, you should give me your ring. Right away. Tonight."  
  
Logan stared at her for a moment in confusion. Then a slow, sardonic grin emerged. "You just want your sparkly early."  
  
She returned his grin good-naturedly. "Well... yeah. But I don't want whatever issues you have with Angel, Xander, Spike, the mailman... whoever... to cause you to doubt me. It's exhausting for me to have to go into every situation assuming that any random guy I cross paths with will piss you off... Logan, I love you. I don't know what else to do to convince you."  
  
Logan pulled her tighter against him and growled softly, his eyes deadly serious. "I didn't tell you about the rings to rush you. I wanted you to know that I wanted to wait for a good reason. This isn't a little girl's promise ring, Buffy, or some other weak... This is for real. If you accept it now, I'll hold you to it. No turning back."  
  
"I know that."  
  
"Do you?" he whispered, searching her eyes for confirmation. Hope stirred, and something else. Something primal leapt up within him, screaming inside his head, "Yes... Do it now! It's your right!"  
  
Buffy returned his look fixedly, and her heart went out to him. He was so rarely unsure. Gently she kissed the corner of his mouth, and ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Of course I do. Despite what everyone seems to think, I am an adult. I'm not saying that we'll be married tomorrow. We have a lot to work out. I still have huge work to do here. And I'm not ready to accept that Faith won't turn the minute I leave town. You have to know that I'm a whole lot to handle, too. You have to know that I come with a sister. Wherever we go, Dawn goes with us, at least until she's old enough for college. What I'm saying is that I know we have fences to climb, but every couple does... What matters is that I love you. And I do want to marry you. If you ask me..."  
  
Logan seized her by the shoulders and kissed her fiercely, savagely. He wanted desperately to believe her, to drag her behind some car and end his inner struggle against the side of it, but he couldn't do that to Buffy. So instead he fought the beast eating away at his will back into its cage. "Buffy I want to; you know that," Looking around, he sighed. "Shit. I don't even have a last name to offer you... And I didn't want to do this in an alley..."  
  
As she responded, he winced slightly, "Yeah, not a great story to tell the grandkids... but I seem to spend most of my time in alleys. At least we're not in a cemetery..." Gesturing with her head, she suggested, "Let's go back inside."  
  
Logan shuddered, "Inside? Buffy, I don't know..."  
  
"Come on, don't be such a scared-y cat," she taunted slyly, as she squeezed his hand.  
  
As they returned, Logan was relieved to find Angel gone. He pulled out Buffy's chair, and as she sat, he lowered himself down to his knees next to her. Everyone was shocked as he picked up his leather jacket from the table and dug into the inner breast pocket. Withdrawing his hand, he opened his fist and revealed a small black velvet box resting in his palm.  
  
Smiling at her ruefully, he opened the box and removed a perfect one karat oval diamond, set across a slim platinum band. As the box fell away to the floor with a thud that only he could hear, Logan said, "If you don't like it, we can get something else..."  
  
Willow grabbed her girlfriend's hand and pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to Tara's temple. "You knew about this," Tara accused playfully. Willow giggled, "For ages! Marie called and asked me for Buffy's ring size a while back."  
  
Anya nudged a clearly dismayed Xander, who murmured, "Ah damn..."  
  
A little too loudly, Anya insisted, "Apparently, not everyone is obsessed with 'the right time'... Well, except when it comes to giving Buffy orgasms. I think I'd rather have the orgasms..."  
  
Logan felt like he was in a wind tunnel. There was noise and activity all around, but he was riveted by Buffy's rapidly pounding heart and shallow puffs of breath. Swallowing convulsively, Logan asked, "Buffy Summers, be my wife?"  
  
Although she knew what was about to happen, a tear slid down Buffy's cheek. Softly, reverently, she stroked the ring, his knuckles, and then the back of his hand with shaking fingers. "Yes. Yes, I will."  
  
Logan slipped the ring on her finger and Buffy dropped to her knees abruptly, circling his neck with her arms and knocking over her chair. Mine! He thought as his mind reveled in pure male satisfaction. Buffy bore his mark now. Everyone, human, mutant, and demon would recognize this. She was his and nothing would ever sever his claim. Passionately, he took full possession of her mouth and gloried in the taste of her. For the first time, the spell truly felt like a blessing rather than a curse.  
  
Buffy was giddy. This strong, beautiful man was hers. No one and nothing would ever dare come between them now, not even Logan. He began to stand in the middle of the kiss, dragging her along the length of his tightly corded muscles. Soon, she thought, soon we'll make love and I'll be able to do all of the things to him I've dreamt of for so long. He couldn't... wouldn't make her wait until they got home. "Car sex... mmm," she whispered dreamily against his lips. To hell with everyone else. They could walk.  
  
But Logan didn't hear her. From the back of the club, Logan was distracted by an eerie sing-song voice. It was Spike, talking to himself. Barely a whisper in the tightly packed room full of people, but Logan heard him nevertheless and it worried him. "It's just a ring. Not the first ring she's ever worn. She wore Angel's ring, too... once upon a time."  
  
(end chapter)

Personal ANs:

Anna: Hope you liked the proposal. I really sweated it, considering how quickly it followed his discussion with Buffy about marriage. Well, it's sort of quick, about two weeks later. And thanks for your mention of Angel, as it gave me an excuse to press B & L closer.

Pay-day1999: Xander will settle down and accept Logan eventually. I doubt that he'll ever be Logan's best buddy, but they'll be civil for Buffy. I've decided against Buffy and Spike sex, although I'm leaving his constant pursuit of her and the attempted rape as is. That will do what I need to move Buffy and Logan even closer. I hadn't given any thought to a sequel. I have a new, completely different B/L in mind that I'd like to write first, but after that, it's possible. Logan will be inheriting more than just Dawn along with Buffy at the end of this.

Laura: Glad you're enjoying it. Let me know what you think of this chapter:]


	28. A Little Distraction

ANs: I know I told everyone that I would be keeping the Buffy/Spike sex, but for those of you who don't read the personal ANs, I changed my mind. It just seems unlikely to me that Buffy would do that, considering where the story has led us. I plan to keep a lighter version of the attempted rape at the beginning of May, though, as I need it as a catalyst for other things. I hope that no one is too disappointed. Also, I've devised another, simpler way for the Summers' women to remain afloat. So forget all about the Doublemeat Palace garbage. Hated it. Finally: Warning. This chapter contains foreplay acrobatics. Do not try this at home. There's no actual nudity, so for me it's fairly tame, but you should be able to see it coming. If you're offended by such things, skip down. P's at the bottom. Hugs! sita:)

A Little Distraction  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
December 16, 2001 3PM  
  
As she and Dawn passed through the doors of Charles Xavier's manor, Buffy inhaled deeply and then sighed with relief. She was very glad to be out of Sunnydale. For a little while she would be virtually responsibility free. She and Dawn would both be cared for here. And she would be with Logan.  
  
After Tara had moved out and Willow's quick descent into dark magic oblivion, Buffy had felt Logan's absence sharply. She had tried to be a parent to Dawn, but Dawn only seemed half-interested. Spike could have been supportive, as he was when she'd first made her way home from the cemetery. But his agenda had changed once again. Buffy deeply resented his renewed sexual pursuit of her, meagerly disguised by frequent declarations of his love. In addition, sprinkled throughout her last few weeks at home, periods of Anya and Xander's vigorous bickering about their wedding plans were just depressing. Clearly, she had needed some time away from the Hellmouth and her life there. It was enough to wreck anyone.  
  
The weight of Logan's warm arm draped across her shoulder was comforting and solid; and as he led her through the festively decorated rooms, she was reminded of the last time they were together in Sunnydale. Dreading the loss of her fiancé, for the last few days before his departure, Buffy refused to talk about his return to the mansion. She'd felt so safe with him and she wasn't ready to let that go. She knew at the time that she should have put him first. She should have been less emotional. She was a strong woman, a survivor, a Slayer. But after having been pulled out of paradise and abandoned by Giles, Logan had become her home and her only haven.  
  
Since he'd left, if she closed her eyes, she could still smell the fumes emanating from the Xavier jet waiting to take him back to the school. She remembered the tears that fell on the way to the jet. She had felt as if someone was stealing a part of her, severing an arm. And the stricken look he had given her in the car brought tears to her eyes still.  
  
Once they arrived, Scott had greeted her warmly and then politely returned to the jet where he kept a discrete distance, allowing her time and privacy to say good-bye to Logan. Standing next to the jet on that dusty, abandoned airstrip outside of town, Logan held her gently, like she was made of porcelain.  
  
Studying her face with his startlingly beautiful amber eyes, as if he were trying to memorize her every nuance, he whispered, "I don't want to go."  
  
"Don't!" she cried, as she buried her face in his chest.  
  
"I can be here in less than an hour, if you need me," he offered.  
  
"I need you now, and I'll need you again in less than an hour, so you should just stay and save yourself the trouble of coming right back," she suggested plaintively.  
  
"You could always come with me," he said. "There's got to be some demons that need slaying in New York."  
  
She shook her head in despair, "You know I can't. Not yet."  
  
Buffy was startled into the present as Logan stopped abruptly at the door of her usual room. Assuming it was for Dawn this time, she allowed Dawn to enter first. Buffy was shocked to find that the single queen-sized bed had been replaced with two full-sized beds.  
  
"Dawnie, give us a minute," Buffy asked, as she backed into Logan and nudged him out into the hall.  
  
"I thought I would be staying with you. I want to stay with you. In your room," Buffy insisted in a hushed tone.  
  
Logan ushered her next to the wall a few feet away, "Not a good idea."  
  
"Why not? We're engaged. We're not going to be sleeping down the hall from each other after we're married, are we?" she countered.  
  
"Buffy, of course not. But I don't think..."  
  
Before he could stop her, Buffy delicately placed one foot between his legs, held on to his upper arms, pivoted, and switched positions with him, placing him firmly against the wall. Smiling wolfishly, she leaned into his chest, delighting in the strength and power of his body. Aggressiveness, even if it was subtle, with someone as formidable as Logan was almost euphoric in its intensity. Tingles bordering on chills ran down her back and down the backs of her legs. She shivered, then kissed his neck just beneath his ear. "Well, I do think. I think we need to practice. No awkward wedding night fumblings this way."  
  
Logan flipped her around, turned her to face the wall, seized her hands and pinned them on either side of her head. "I really don't think that will be a problem. And neither do you," he growled, as he bit the delicate skin at the back of her neck. Once. Twice. Then lower, through the fibers of her cashmere sweater and between her shoulder blades, she felt the soft demanding pressure of his teeth.  
  
"I might," she panted, turning slowly and pulling her hands free. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she brushed her lips and cheek softly back and forth against the starkly differing textures of his lips and abrasive whiskers. "I've been thinking of you... concocting plans for you... plotting your downfall... And I thought it would only be fair to let you know... in case you wanted to surrender now... Would you like to hear the things I'd like to do to you?" Whispering heatedly against his neck, she lifted herself deftly from the floor and encircled his hips with her legs. "I promise to make you feel so good... again and again... until you beg for mercy... or pass out... Would you like that... do you think?"  
  
Logan gasped as her legs wrapped around his waist and squeezed. The scent of her desire and the sound of her husky whispers were enough to drive him over the edge, but when she wound herself around him, he was submerged, drowning in sensation. He growled and slammed himself against Buffy so hard that the paintings shook all the way to his room. His lips sought hers blindly, taking her mouth in a wild, abandoned sensual feasting. One hand supported her while the other slid hedonistically between the slit in her leather skirt. Buffy writhed and clung to him as if the absence of contact with his warmth would signal certain death. Lost in the delirium of their connection, both were stunned by Dawn's sudden announcement from beyond the open door.  
  
"I can hear you dry humping my sister in the hall, Logan, and it's totally disgusting."  
  
Chagrined, Logan dropped Buffy's legs immediately. She felt bereft at the lost of contact, but just smirked at him before strolling brazenly into her room. "Separate rooms, Logan? Big. Big mistake."  
  
His body in agony, Logan staggered to his room. He needed to wash up again, to send his clothes down to the laundry. Buffy's passion-infused scent was implanted in ever fiber and in every pore she touched. And he knew that until he washed at least some of it away, he would never be able to relax enough to enjoy her visit, or face her sister.  
  
After a thoroughly bracing half-hour under the needles of frigid water in his shower, Logan pulled out some fresh jeans and a long-sleeved navy henley tshirt and dressed himself. Even from the floor, his scent combined with Buffy's in his clothes was making his head spin. But before he could get them to the laundry chute down the hall, Logan's phone began to ring.  
  
"What?" Logan demanded testily, dropping to the edge of his bed.  
  
"Hello, Logan? It's Rupert Giles."  
  
"Giles, I'm a little busy..." Logan hedged.  
  
"Oh, of course," Giles rushed, "I do apologize if I've caught you at a bad time, but I've learned a little more about the spell and I thought you might want to know right away."  
  
Logan laid back on his bed. "Sure, let me have it."  
  
"Erm... well, I was surprised by the seriousness of your illness after Buffy's death. According to everything I had previously read regarding this spell, it should have simply ended when Buffy died. Consequently, I've done a bit more research and it appears that some kind of addendum has been attached to it."  
  
Sitting up quickly, Logan demanded, "Addendum? What kind of addendum?"  
  
"I cannot be certain without the actual spell - there are so many possibilities - but I have deduced that this spell has intertwined your spirits and not just your bodies and minds."  
  
"What? What the hell does that mean?"  
  
"In essence, it means that although Buffy was on a heavenly plane, she was not fulfilled without your soul there with her. She didn't suffer as you did, but whether she knew it or not, she was incomplete. And as time seemed to pass more slowly there, she was without you longer. While you suffered and I'm sure to an extent, continue to do so now, her anxiety during separation will soon match and quite possibly surpass yours."  
  
"Ok, great. Any good news to go with the lousy?"  
  
"I'm afraid the only good news is your engagement, Logan. Have you set a date?" Giles inquired tentatively.  
  
"No. She's still not ready. She needs more time."  
  
Giles sighed, "There isn't much of that left. Soon the needs of her spirit will manifest themselves in terms she can understand in order to bring about resolution. The physical... cravings of her body will start to affect her decision-making skills. She hasn't had the slow building of... of... desire that you have, so she won't be as resistant. She's strong. She's a Slayer. But she may begin to behave irrationally."  
  
"You're going to have to spell it out for me, Giles."  
  
"Is there any way you could get married and live with her in Sunnydale for a while?" Giles ventured cautiously. "If you can't find a way to move things along, she may very well turn to someone else as a surrogate. It will be unsatisfying and she won't want to, but..."  
  
Logan stood and began to pace, "Fuck if she will. I'll kill anyone..."  
  
"That's what I'm trying to say to you, Logan. You are growing more dangerous at every new moon, and so is she."  
  
"What can I do? Give me something to do."  
  
"I honestly don't know," Giles said sadly, "but I will pursue this until I have an answer for you."  
  
Something suddenly occurred to Logan. "What if we don't have actual sex, but..."  
  
Giles blanched audibly. "You mean m-mmutual m-m-masturbation or-or-or oral sex?"  
  
"That's right."  
  
"I don't know. It might help, but it will definitely be dangerous. You will both feel a terrible pull to consummate your union. Let me speak with some of the members of a coven I know. They may be able to answer you more definitively."  
  
"Fine. Get back to me," Logan snarled and slammed down the phone.  
  
Shakily, he turned and bent down to pick up his clothes again. Unable to stop himself, he lifted his shirt and pressed it against his face. Pain clawed at his lower stomach. "Buffy," he whispered, before finding his control again. Taking a deep breath, he tried to empty his mind. When he was ready, tentatively, he ventured out the bedroom door.  
  
As he reluctantly deposited his clothing behind the steel chute door, he overheard Dawn talking with someone a few doors away. Buffy wasn't in there. Dawn must be on the phone. But where was Buffy? Reaching out with his senses, he found her in the kitchen with Marie and Ororo. Good, he affirmed silently. No men in that room.  
  
Unexpectedly, his attention was drawn back to Dawn and her conversation when Logan heard her say, "Yes Angel, we got your check. Thanks again for taking such good care of us. And yes, we got your Christmas gifts. Did Cordy choose them? Because I know you can barely put two matching socks together."  
  
Alarmed, Logan hesitated for a few seconds, then returned to his room. The last thing he wanted was to go downstairs and confront his fiancé about another man paying her way. It nauseated him. It was like Angel leaving money on her nightstand after services rendered. No, he told himself. He would know if she had... and she wouldn't. She would never do that, no matter what Giles said. He struggled against his pride and the will of the beast raging at him, using every ounce of rational intellect he possessed. He was so stupid! Of course they didn't have any income after their mother died. He should have provided for her. Restlessly, he stalked the length of his room.  
  
He needed to get a handle on his emotions. He had to remain as gentle with Buffy as he could in order to hold her interest. Angel and Spike, maybe even Xander... and God knew who else were circling his woman. And apparently Angel had money to spare. Women liked money. They liked to buy things. He had some money tucked away, but how could get more of it? He couldn't steal it. Buffy would never approve of that. Plus, it was wrong and it stank of desperation. He couldn't appear desperate. He needed to keep her respect and his. Shaking his head, he ran his hands over his face. At this rate, he was never going to be able to spend any time with Buffy.  
  
Down the hall, Dawn was still on the phone. In her heart of hearts, she wished that things had worked out between Angel and Buffy. She would never say anything to her sister about it, but she had always hoped that she would get back together with Angel. He was such a great guy, and as long as he wasn't Angelus, he never made her nervous. She couldn't say the same about Logan. What kind of a man had a nickname like 'Wolverine', anyway? Weird. Yes... Ok, Logan was gorgeous, no doubt about it, but he was so... big and... male. Not that Angel wasn't masculine, but Angel was thoughtful and romantic and Buffy's first love... and he was familiar. And he was in California. He didn't expect her to pack up, leave all of her friends, and move across country someday.  
  
"Sorry Angel, what did you say?" Dawn asked with a frown.  
  
Angel, laughing at her, repeated himself, "I asked what you think of the Professor's school."  
  
"Oh, it's gorgeous and absolutely huge. And you should see the decorations. There are wreaths over all the fireplaces, two huge trees decorated in red and white downstairs, and ornaments, tinsel, and real spruce garlands all over the place. It smells amazing."  
  
"Well that's good. So you approve?" He ventured.  
  
"I approve of the house. That's all," she answered swiftly.  
  
"But not of Buffy's choice?"  
  
Dawn sighed and sat down on the floor. "It's not that. I just wish..."  
  
"Dawn, as much as I don't like it, Buffy has made her decision. She's in love with this guy. She's marrying this guy. I know it's hard, but you need to support her. And... and I would be disappointed if you didn't try to get to know him. Eventually, you'll be sharing a house with him and I want you to be happy."  
  
"What if I don't feel like it? You can't even say his name you hate him so much. Couldn't you come here and take her away from him? I bet you could," she whined.  
  
"Dawnie..." Angel drawled.  
  
"Ok-Ok... If I have to be all mature about it."  
  
Dawn finished her conversation a few minutes later and drifted sadly downstairs. Fingering her favorite Christmas gift from Angel, a platinum and emerald cross that matched the amethyst one Buffy received, she set out in search of Buffy. As she descended the stairs, she heard her sister talking to a woman with a southern accent. Walking into a kitchen that was clearly designed for multiple professional chefs, she found Buffy sitting on a bar stool.  
  
"Oh Dawn, I'm so sorry!" Buffy exclaimed. "I should have come to check on you. Did you get lost? Are you finished unpacking?"  
  
Dawn cringed. Buffy so needed to stop with the babying. "I'm good. No worries. So what's up?" Then, noticing a familiar face, Dawn smiled. "Hey Ororo! How've you been?"  
  
Ororo smiled gently at the young girl's enthusiasm. "I'm fine, Dawn. Thank you for asking. And you?"  
  
"I'm good," Dawn began distractedly, as she drifted toward the window. Then, grinning, she turned to Buffy. "So who's up for some snow fun?"  
  
Charles Xavier leaned forward from his seated position and knocked on the door. Seconds later, the door was jerked open by damp-haired, bare-footed Logan.  
  
"Professor. Is everything Ok? Buffy? Where's Buffy?"  
  
"Logan, relax," Xavier soothed. "She's fine. If you look out your window, you'll see for yourself."  
  
Logan walked to the window. Peering down, he saw Buffy, Dawn, Ororo, and Marie making snow angels. Buffy's sweet little nose was tinged red which meant that she should probably come in and get warm, but otherwise, she didn't appear to be in any danger. Without warning, Buffy looked up and caught him watching her. Smiling broadly, she waved and blew kisses. Logan returned her wave, releasing the breath he had been holding with a soft groan. Remembering he had company, he turned around and headed into the bathroom. "Just a minute, let me finish getting cleaned up."  
  
"Yes, of course," he smiled. "Please do."  
  
Charles Xavier could hear Logan splash water on his face. As he rolled himself over to the window to watch the activity below, he was struck by the loveliness of all four girls. He contemplated them as he would a poem or sculpture, allowing his mind drift. Two of them were dear friends, and although they were very independent and capable, he considered them to be in his care. Daughters. The other two were Scott's family which made them his family as well. He sincerely hoped that the decision they had made with Giles in regard to Buffy, on her behalf, was the right one.  
  
"Ready," Logan declared.  
  
"Good... Please sit down," Xavier asked, as he directed Logan to the desk chair next to him. Looking Logan in the eye, Charles Xavier began, "I would never intentionally pry, but I am concerned about the increased conflict I sense from you. It has been on the rise recently, and although I've tried to ignore it, today it has been almost impossible."  
  
Looking at the floor, Logan shrugged. It wouldn't do any good to try and hide from the professor. "I'm handling it the only way I know how."  
  
"I realize that, my friend. I am here with a possible short-term solution... I know from Rupert that Buffy's training includes meditation, and in his absence I intend to suggest she continues to practice. I think that progressive meditation might help you to maintain focus. If you're interested, I would be happy to help you..."  
  
Logan smirked at himself, and nodded in agreement. "At this point, professor, I'll try anything."  
  
(end chapter)

Personal ANs:

Pay-day1999: Yep, another B/L on the horizon, as soon as I finish this, catch up on my reading and reviewing, get my hands on some X-Men comics and polish up my characterizations. So much to do, so little time. Angel redeems himself somewhat in this chapter, but he's still under Logan's skin.

Anna: Working out the Angel issues. Patience, sweetpea:] And hopefully you'll like this one. More angst and turning up the heat.

Prophetess of Hearts! Hey bebe! Not to worry, all will be resolved in time. Spike dies at the end, remember? Then he goes to LA to pester Angel;]

Queenfrizz30: Spike is obsessing again. What a shocker. He obsesses over Buffy when he hates her and when he wants her. Poor Spikey. Sorry if it ruined anything for you, but now that most of the conflict is emotional, I had to keep y'all engaged in what happens next. I'm definitely thinking of writing another B/L, but it will take a while to work out the details.

Allen: Hey there! Welcome! Glad you like it. As far as who knows what, only Logan, Giles and Charles know anything. Everyone else is assuming that they are just a regular couple… well as regular as these two can be. I hope you'll be pleasantly surprised by Buffy's reaction to the news. I'm trying to set it up so that it won't be a terrible blow. I think that Logan is very territorial and possessive. It makes sense. Although he's not a werewolf completely, he has that side to his personality. Think Oz with Tara, after he smelled Willow 'all over her'. I may reference her time in the actual clinic, when her parents committed her. But for the most part, I'm trying to stay away from dwelling on any single specific episodes.


	29. Caved

ANs: This is a bit of a short chapter, I know. I know. (shrugs) It's 2300 words in a day. It's also a little light on the details. But I'm starting to get bored and I want to move along before I lose all interest. Despite the writer affectations, at heart I really am a reader. For the last few weeks, I've lived and breathed this fic all day every day, and I'm nearly out of gas. I know I bitch about that all the time. Sorry y'all. Hopefully the next one will inspire me. P's next time. Also, Polgara, I invented another verb. See if you can find it;] Hugs! sita:]  
  
Caved  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
December 24, 2001 5PM  
  
Logan had just finished his third cold shower of the day. He had tried meditation, and while it helped to quiet some of his inner dialog with the beast, his body didn't seem to notice. Not that the cold showers were working, he acknowledged, but aside from doing his best to avoid being alone with her, he was out of ideas. When he called, Logan had hoped that Giles had been wrong, but if anything, Buffy had become more alluring to him everyday. And unfortunately, she seemed to feel the same way about him.  
  
Her body, a hypnotic siren, sang softly to him day and night. Especially at night. He had deduced that Buffy must have had a series of vividly erotic dreams. He had stood outside her door every night for almost a week as she moaned, pushed against the bed, and stroked herself in sleep. Until finally, around 2AM, when he couldn't take it anymore and dragged himself off to bed with a few bottles of Jack Daniels. Since December 19th, he'd polished off almost two cases. But even that didn't stop his dreams from coming after he passed out.  
  
The most tiresome part was that other people in the house were becoming annoyed with him. Dawn had moved into Marie's room, and they had both accused him of casting a spell on Buffy. He'd almost laughed when they guessed that much of the truth. Scott and Kurt had asked if they were planning to get married soon and move out, and even Professor Xavier mentioned it was probably for the best that Buffy and Dawn were returning to Sunnydale on the 26th.  
  
He hated to pick a fight with her on Christmas Eve, but he needed to get Angel and his money off his mind. Plus, if he didn't try something different soon, he would ruin everyone's meal by leaping across the table and taking Buffy on the floor in the middle of dinner. Actually, that idea had some appeal, he thought, as he buttoned his navy oxford and pulled on a new pair of jeans.  
  
Suddenly, there was a knock and Buffy walked through the door with two brightly wrapped packages.  
  
"Merry Christmas, honey," she announced, as she laid the gifts down on his desk.  
  
Taking her into his arms and kissing her lightly on the forehead, Logan smiled down at her. "Merry Christmas, Buffy. Are we going to do this now?"  
  
Buffy nodded and grinned at him slyly. "Yes, let's open prezzies now, so we can... have them. I know we said that we were only going to exchange one gift, but I have Dawn's here, too."  
  
Logan crossed to the closet and rifled around in the back. Over his shoulder, he mentioned hopefully, "Should I give Dawn her gift now? She's not my biggest fan these days."  
  
Buffy sighed, "Yeah, she's really not loving me either. It's the weirdest. But if you want I'll give it to her later."  
  
Bringing two small, perfectly wrapped and ribboned red packages to the desk, Logan conceded, "Well, if you say so. Before you ask, I didn't wrap these. I'm not so good at it, so they did it for me at the store."  
  
Buffy laughed, "They're beautiful and it was very sweet of you. And even though you didn't do it yourself, at least they aren't in Xander's favorite choice of wrap – the funny pages. Every year he makes music mixes for us and they're always covered in Marmaduke and Family Circus."  
  
Logan laughed hesitantly, hoping that Buffy would approve of his gift. He'd seen it in a shop window the week he had arrived in Sunnydale and something about it pulled at him. Inside the store, he had found something for Dawn as well. He had saved for a while to buy them, but the presents were delivered to the school just after Thanksgiving. As a result, he had worried nervously about his gifts off and on for almost three weeks.  
  
Buffy motioned for him to sit on the bed and she brought the boxes over. Setting them down next to him, she pointed to a package wrapped in paper with white snowmen and reindeer outlined on a dark blue background. "You go first. This one is from Dawn."  
  
Quickly Logan tore away the wrapping to unveil a box from Orvis. As he pulled off the lid and lifted the white tissue paper, a burgundy, ecru, and olive Native American lodge blanked was folded beneath. "This is from Dawn? It's great, Buffy. Tell her that I liked it a lot?"  
  
Buffy nodded happily, "Yeah, she thought you would..." Then gesturing to the next box, Buffy insisted joyfully, "Now open mine!"  
  
"Ok, Ok, let me just put this at the end of the bed. What do you think?" Logan asked.  
  
"Very manly. It works. Now, focus..." she redirected.  
  
Pretending to drag himself away from the blanket, Logan dropped down on the bed with an indulgent smile. "If I have to..."  
  
"You do," Buffy remarked as she sat down next to him. Raising his knuckles to her lips, she kissed them, then whispered, "I really hope you like these."  
  
Logan pulled her closer with one arm. "I know I will." Then, reclaiming his hands, he began to open Buffy's silvery-papered box. As he tore the edge of the paper, he saw that the name 'Lucchese' was boldly emblazoned on the box inside. Excitedly, he ripped open the top to reveal a pair of hand-made western boots in black navigator leather with black stitching. Sighing, he kissed her softly. "These are perfect."  
  
She laughed against his mouth. "You seem a little too relieved. I have excellent taste, you know."  
  
"I never should have doubted you," Logan admitted, as he stood to put his new boots in the closet. Stopping at the desk to pick up her gift, he turned and laid it softly in her hands. "I hope I have good taste, too."  
  
Buffy slid the ribbon off, gingerly removed the paper, and opened the plain white box. Inside, on a pillow of cotton, there was a delicate yellow gold oriental knot tied onto a black silk choker cord, with ruby beads tied at the ends of two cords dangling beneath the knot. "I love it. It's perfect. Here, help me put it on," she asked, as she lifted her hair and pressed the knot to her throat.  
  
As he secured the latch, Logan told her about his gift. "It's called a Wish Knot. In China, silk knots are a tradition that reminds people of a myth about an old man living on the moon. It was believed that he kept a list of births and marriages, and would draw a red line linking the names of children who would get married when they grew up. The lines supposedly resembled knots."  
  
When he was finished, Buffy turned and kissed him passionately. For a moment, Logan was lost as he relished the sweet taste of her.  
  
Then, lifting his face from hers, he began, "Buffy, we need to talk."  
  
Buffy grinned mischievously, "Does this talking include nakedness?"  
  
"No. Sorry, darlin'."  
  
Her smile was unabashed, as she sweetly replied, "Not interested."  
  
Logan looked down at her for a moment, then nodded his head toward the bed, motioning for her to sit down with him. "I heard Dawn on the phone. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but..."  
  
Buffy nodded, still smiling indulgently, "But with your superhero-like senses, you couldn't not hear it. It's ok. When it comes to my slaying, Dawn tries really hard to be understanding and supportive. I'm sure she'll feel the same way about your gifts...eventually. She won't be thrilled, but she'll probably be willing to take her calls downstairs in the small sitting room off the kitchen."  
  
God, I love this woman, Logan mused. In two seconds, she's already made concessions for me and found a solution for Dawn. How am I going to talk to her about this? "Buffy, that's not it. I heard Dawn thanking Angel for sending you a check. She told him that he takes good care of the two of you. If you need money, I'll get you some. I really don't want you accepting cash from your ex."  
  
Buffy stood and walked to the window. Defensively, she stated, "Then you have a problem. The money comes from Angel Investigations, not Angel's personal accounts. He doesn't send us a lot, just whatever they can spare after all their bills are paid. He does it because he cares about us... but it's also because he cares about fighting evil on the Hellmouth. Scott and Giles also send us a little bit when they can. And Willow pitches in. Her parents give her the money they were sending to UC Sunnydale for her dorm fees. It's not like he's..."  
  
"It's exactly like he's trying to pay your way," Logan interrupted. "That's my job."  
  
Buffy was insulted, but she tried to appease him. "Logan, when we get married, if you want, we can find a way to pay him back. But right now, I'm the one making decisions for Dawn and me." Sighing, Buffy turned to face him. "It's all I can do keep Dawn out of trouble, keep Willow off the magics, and slay every night. Angel is helping out a friend. Just like Giles. That's all."  
  
"Come on, Buffy, you can't actually believe that. Angel sends you money for one reason. He wants you."  
  
Why was he being so unreasonable? Didn't he see that she was making an effort? Slowly, she approached the door. "You don't know Angel. You've barely spoken two sentences to each other. But if you don't have faith in me, I don't know what we're doing getting married."  
  
Rage and fear warred for domination in Logan's mind. Grabbing her by the arm, he whirled Buffy around and pulled her to him roughly. "The hell you don't! This is why we're getting married, Buffy. This!" he snarled, as he tightened his grip and captured her mouth in a soul-draining, body-searing kiss. Buffy twisted and fought until she dislodged herself.  
  
Horrified, she looked at him and shook her head as she whispered, "Who are you, Logan? I don't know who... Maybe I never did." Then she ran down the hall and locked herself and Dawn, who was getting dressed for dinner, in their room.  
  
Logan let her go. What else could he do? She was devastated and he was sickened by his behavior. Collapsing onto the bed, he agonized over the previous half-hour. Where did that come from? He would have killed anyone who treated her so cruelly. Was it the spell driving him, or was this a manifestation of some dark part of his character? He sat in doubt for almost and hour until he realized the time and went downstairs for dinner.  
  
But Buffy and Dawn never came to the table. Excusing himself early, he went to her door and stood outside of it for several minutes. He could hear Buffy crying inside and the sound of her hiccupping sobs tore at him. He had caused those tears. There was no one else to blame. He knocked softly on the door and called out to her, but Dawn answered.  
  
"Go away please."  
  
"Dawn, let me talk to..."  
  
Coldly, Dawn responded, "Logan, please go away. She's not up for this."  
  
Logan could smell and hear Dawn just on the other side of the door. "Dawnie, please just let me..."  
  
Suddenly the door opened, and he caught a glimpse of Buffy sitting on the bed, arms wrapped around her knees, head down, rocking herself back and forth. Then Dawn stepped in front of his view and pushed him back further into the hallway. He allowed himself to be moved, even though he knew he could have easily overpowered her. For a split second, he was tempted to do so, just so he could hold Buffy. But he had to find a way to make this right, so he relented.  
  
Dawn scorned him viciously. "Don't call me that! You don't have the right. And by the way, do you know what tonight is, Logan? Tonight is Christmas Eve - our first without Mom, so forgive us if we don't feel like socializing. As a matter of fact, in the past ten months, our mother has died. Buffy died and was forced out of Heaven by people she loves and trusts with her whole heart. Then, Giles dumps us.... I really don't know how much more we can take... I don't know what grotesque thing you said to her, and personally I don't care." Pausing, she pulled the engagement ring he'd given to Buffy out of her back pocket and held it out for him to take. "Stay away from us, Logan."  
  
Logan shook as he watched Dawn push the ring toward him. It was as if he were watching a film flickering in slow motion, or a terrible dream.  
  
"Take it!" she shouted, jarring him.  
  
He backed away, staring at the ring as if mesmerized by it. "No... That's Buffy's. She needs it. I need her to..."  
  
"Fine. Don't," Dawn snapped, as she turned her hand over and let it fall to the floor. "But she's never wearing it again."  
  
Logan watched the symbol of his destiny, his seal, and the only recognizable claim to his mate tumble slowly through a haze of red. With glazed vision, he continued to back up until he was inside his room. Weakly, he closed the door and fell back against it. The sound of her tears and the ring striking the floor echoed in his ears. He tried to tell himself that tomorrow he would find a way to pick himself up, find her, and change her mind.  
  
But he knew it was a lie. By morning she would be gone. It was her way. And he was alone again. Alone and utterly without hope.  
  
(end chapter) 


	30. Circles

ANs: After this one, I'm taking a few days off. My new handful of Grant Morrison X-Men graphic novels are in, so I'm planning to take many hot baths with Logan & co. and let the next few chapters gel. Btw, if you read the comics post the black and white, frenzied early stuff and you want to give me a rec, I'd love to have it. What I'm learning about Wolverine probably won't manifest itself too much in this one, but I'm going to work even harder on characterization, preparing ahead and everything, for my next B/L. All this blah blah blah probably means that despite my best intentions, a new idea will strike, and you'll have another chapter day after tomorrow. Oh well. Hope you like Circles, and I hope that nobody's diappointed by the lack of slugging. I felt that after the year she's had, this reaction was the most realistic. If you hate, feel free to tell me, but I probably won't listen:] Oh ceebee, and any others who were actually worried by my silly blatherings, don't you fret. I'm committed to finishing this. Sometimes I just need to vent a little. Besides, I'm utterly addicted to feedback. I don't know what I'll do between stories. I guess I'll have to write my own imaginary reviews ;] and they'll be completely impartial, of course. Can you imagine? lol "Dear sita, you are precious, perfect, and fantastically fabu, now get off your ass and write something worthy of a real review. I love you, you sexy thing... Sincerely, sita" P's below. Hugs!  
  
Circles  
  
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters  
  
May 24, 2002 3PM  
  
The moment Buffy walked through the large, heavy mahogany doors, he felt her. It wasn't her smell, although he could have detected her heady sweetness in the middle of a category five hurricane. And it wasn't that he had heard her, although he would recognize the rhythm of her heels if she were on the opposite side of Giants Stadium during a Championship game. He just felt her. It felt like a full-body caress. And with every step closer, the sensation became more insistent.  
  
He passed into her room silently. As he crossed the threshold behind her, Buffy stopped unpacking for a few heartbeats. She lifted her head and stilled her hands, but she did not speak. She looked so prim. So pristine. So far away. Her hair was expertly tied in a little knot, swirled and fastened to the nape of her neck. She wore a white pantsuit and slim white heels. His palms were sweating and his fingers itched to pull her hair down and rip her clothes to shreds. He wanted to put his hands everywhere, to mar her perfection just a little, so that she might be remotely attainable. His fists clenched, then relaxed as she turned her attention back to unpacking. That was when he noticed that she wasn't wearing his ring.  
  
Logan had sent it to her in early January and she hadn't sent it back. Instead, she sent a note saying, "Don't contact me. I'll come when I'm ready to see you." He had allowed himself to hope that she meant she still loved him and would come home to him soon. So he waited. During that time he tried to concentrate on his X-Men duties and teaching, but every night he dreamt of her. Many of the dreams were horrific. He relived her death. He saw her fight and struggle and cry and bleed. He dreamt she was shot. But there were a few dreams that were beautiful. And when he woke from those, they gave him the stamina to continue to wait.  
  
Now she was here. So many times he had fantasized about their reunion, but never once in any of his daydreams had she refused to face him. Turn around, he thought. "Buffy?" he said hoarsely.  
  
Her name on his lips was like ice water in the desert. She knew, as soon as she arrived exactly where he was. She wasn't searching for him with her Slayer senses, somehow she just knew that he was upstairs in his room. So she waited. It was only minutes until he came to her, but it felt like decades.  
  
Even though Giles had assured Buffy that he would welcome her back with open arms, tell her how sorry he was, and how much he still wanted her to be his wife, she was hopeful but unsure. She wore his ring on a hip chain she'd borrowed from Dawn, just in case.  
  
When the engagement ring arrived, she had been so thrilled, but there was nothing in the note to indicate that he still wanted her. All it said was, "This is yours. It belongs with you." She didn't want to wear it on her hand again until he put it back on her finger, but she always carried it, in pockets, in her purse, and on patrol, tied around her neck under her shirt.  
  
She even took it with her to show Faith when she visited her in prison. She wasn't sure why, maybe as a conversation piece? Not. Who was she kidding? Sitting there across the glass from Faith, suddenly she found the words, the story spilling from her lips like water over the edge of a fountain, as if she and the fallen Slayer were long lost friends. Faith listened, asked questions, and then told her to get her ass back to New York pronto. It seemed like decent advice then, not in the least bit reckless, but now she wasn't so certain.  
  
"Buffy. Turn around." He remained still for a moment, anticipating. Did I just say that out loud?  
  
But he must have said it, he realized, because she did. All senses except sight were dampened, as he watched her. She was dazzling, gorgeous, but there was no smile, no frown, and nothing in her eyes to indicate what she was feeling. Her skin was alabaster and flawless. Her lips were still pert, soft, beckoning, and his name rolled off her tongue with such aching sweetness, his stomach spasmed in delight. "Logan. How have you been?"  
  
He was a glorious dark god. Ferocity, passion, and a kind of lethal grace marked his every gesture as he stepped closer. He was simultaneously savage and serene, and the way he looked at her sent tiny pinpricks of fire over her entire body. His eyes seemed to be studying her face. He can still pierce me through with a glance, she thought ruefully. She had missed everything about him. Closing her eyes briefly she inhaled his vetiver, woodsy scent. Beating down blazes of longing demanding that she reach out to touch his skin, to slip her hands into his silky hair, she waited. Then he spoke again. "Good. You?"  
  
"Fine." His body raged at him to push her, press her back into the soft mattress and take her slowly. He wanted to grind into her until there was no place she could hide; he wanted to bury himself, to lose and to find himself in her. He took one step closer, and then he realized something wasn't right.  
  
Logan circled her, scenting the air. It was subtle, but something was definitely wrong. She smelled like Buffy, but there was another scent mingled with hers. Spike.  
  
"What the hell have you been doing?" he demanded, taking Buffy completely by surprise. "You've been intimate with the dead again, haven't you? For God's sake Buffy, Spike's all over you. You stink of him."  
  
For the first time in his presence, Buffy was frightened. He was acting so strangely, almost like Oz used to before the night of a full moon. His tone was icy, with undercurrents of an animalistic fury she never imagined he possessed. She closed her eyes and waited, hoping that this would all just go away.  
  
Logan nudged her, sniffing at her hair, her neck, all around her. "He's in your skin, in your breath, in your hair, everywhere. What did you think? I wouldn't be able to tell? A little soap and toothpaste and the scent would be gone?"  
  
She wanted to run, to tear out of the room as fast as she could, but there was no where she could go that he wouldn't be able to follow. Her gut was telling her to strike first and strike hard before he hurt her. But she remained still, waiting, hoping for his anger to abate.  
  
"I'll kill him. Where is he? Still in Sunnydale... or did you stash your lover at a local motel? Wherever he is, he's dust, Buffy."  
  
Buffy laughed eerily, shakily. If he hadn't been so unhinged by his growing, seething anger, he would have been afraid for her. "What's so funny? You think I won't do it? You think I can't track him?"  
  
She let out a muffled, hysterical sob and tears began to stream down her face. "It was a few weeks ago. It was nothing. He kissed me, and it was strong and it felt so good... and you weren't around. You were never around, not even most of the time we were engaged. I know I shouldn't have let him. But then I tried to stop it. I... He didn't stop at first. He touched me. He tried to change my mind. I hit him hard and he left. I haven't seen him since. It was nothing, just a misund..."  
  
"It was nothing? You let him put his tongue in your mouth and his hands on you and that's nothing?" Buffy heard two distinct 'snikt' sounds and, startled, she lifted her head from her hands.  
  
Logan pushed her out of the way attacked her suitcase, tearing and rending her clothes and bag. Buffy stood still, impotently frozen in place, until he wailed, "Get out of here before I lose control... I could kill you..."  
  
"Get out of here! GET... OUT..."  
  
Buffy ran out of the room, down the stairs and into the manor's entrance gallery. She flung open the front door and hurried down the sandstone steps. Where could she go? She didn't have a car. Just as she reached the white gravel drive, she heard Charles Xavier's voice behind her, "Buffy, where are you running to?"  
  
"What? He's crazy. Certifiable. He's upstairs now, ripping my room apart," she cried.  
  
"Yes, I know."  
  
Buffy dragged herself back up the stairs. Shaking her head, she moaned, "He's dangerous. You have a school full of kids. Do something!"  
  
"He would never harm anyone under this roof. And you know that. He's taking his pain and grief out on inanimate objects, and while that it regrettable, I cannot blame him."  
  
"Can't you stop him?"  
  
Xavier shook his head sadly, and reached out a hand for her. As soon as she took it, he began, "Buffy, you know no one can stop him. Except perhaps you, if he were angry at someone else. But he's not in any shape to be reasonable... Please come back inside and sit with me for a little while. I'll keep you company while you wait." Buffy followed grudgingly, fighting against instincts telling her to do everything possible to evade the kind of emotional pain only Logan's disappointment and disillusionment could create. As they passed through the library's French doors, Xavier indicated she should sit down in one of the leather club chairs by the fireplace. Buffy pulled it closer to his wheelchair and sat down.  
  
"I'd like to tell you a story."  
  
"A what?" Buffy gasped.  
  
"It is a story about a wolf who loved a woman."  
  
"Professor!" Buffy groaned. "One of your teachers is upstairs losing it."  
  
"Just listen," he sighed. "And then, if you still want to go, Scott will fly you home."  
  
Buffy shifted, trying to get comfortable. She was anything but. Shedding her pumps, she swiveled, leaned against the side of the chair, and drew her legs up next to her.  
  
Charles took a deep breath. He needed to share with her how difficult Logan's life had been since her very first visit. He searched his mind for a way to convey the loneliness and desolation Logan had experienced during her absences. He decided to continue telling the story wrapped in a fable. "This wolf loved his woman deeply, but he never told her he was trapped by an evil spell. He wanted her remain free and strong. He allowed her to live her life beyond the shadow of his painful, debilitating secret. Over and over, she came to him and left. And he loved her as well and as fiercely as he could when she was with him, even though he knew she would leave and he would have to walk through fire until she returned."  
  
Two hours later, Buffy struggled up the stairs. During the story, she had experienced a mélange of emotions. So many, that now her head ached and all she wanted to do was find a place to hide, to cry for a solid week. But she couldn't do that, not yet.  
  
Apparently, she needed Logan. And he needed her.  
  
She stopped at her bedroom door, expecting to find Logan inside. Everything in sight, everything that was there when she arrived and everything she brought with her was torn and tattered. But she was too numb to care, and he was gone.  
  
When she arrived at his room, she hesitated briefly, then opened the door and walked inside. Logan was leaning against a windowsill looking out into the garden. All of the glass and panes were broken out, and a slight breeze tussled his hair, but everything else in the room seemed to be intact.  
  
"Christ, Buffy, don't come in here. I can't stand it."  
  
"Ok," she replied blandly, and turned around. But before she got to the doorway, he was behind her. He touched her shoulder lightly.  
  
"Wait."  
  
"Ok," she shrugged and walked past him to sit down on the bed.  
  
"Buffy, I'm sorry. It's hard to take... what you did... but I would never hurt you and I never wanted to scare you, I just..." he said, as he edged closer to her.  
  
Buffy fell back into the middle of his bed, "What? Oh that... S'ok. I'm over it. Mind if I lie down? It's been a really crappy day."  
  
Watching her as she stretched out on his bed, kicked her shoes off, and slipped a pillow under her head, Logan's blood began to heat. "Buffy, that's not such a good idea. This isn't what you want. I'm not what you want. Being with me, it would be a prison. Just leave this place. Run away and never come back. You shouldn't have to live like this... You shouldn't be here...."  
  
"That's not what I hear," she snorted sarcastically. "I have recently been informed that this is exactly where I'm supposed to be... Professor Xavier told me about the spell."  
  
"God. Buffy. Are you alright?" he asked, clearly startled.  
  
She didn't answer at first. Instead, she pressed her face into the pillow and snuggled into the fabric. "Do I really reek of Spike? I can't smell it."  
  
"A tiny bit..." he began. Relief washed over him and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, "After what you heard, are you going to slug me? Or Giles? Or the Professor?"  
  
"Hmm... slugging... tempting... but no... mostly I want to cry and then I want to sleep. Maybe I'll take a hot bath after." Pausing for a moment, she seemed to be trying to concentrate on what else he'd said, "Am I alright? That's kind of funny..." she said as she chuckled softly.  
  
Rolling over to look at him, she sat up slowly and began pulling out her hairpins. As her hair fell around her shoulders, she raked her fingers through it, trying to smooth out the tangles, and he caught himself before he joined her on the bed. "I feel strange..." she confessed distractedly. "Like I've been climbing circular stairs in an Escher painting for a long time... My head hurts. I'm confused. I'm wondering if anything I ever knew about who and what I am and our relationship is true. I'm hurt and frustrated by your apparent inability to forgive a single mistake, after you lied to me by omission for years. I'm angry that once again decisions were made for me, instead of with me."  
  
At that, Logan lowered his eyes, seemingly contemplating his red duvet cover. Buffy laid back against the pillows, and continued quietly, "I'm also humbled by your outrageous and numerous sacrifices. I'm sad that because nobody talked to me about this spell, you suffered needlessly and we wasted so much time. And I feel guilty for being so blind. Plus, I haven't had a decent night's sleep in ages... I'm just so overwhelmed and drained, I'm numb."  
  
Logan sighed and stepped forward plaintively, "I'm so sorry, Buffy. If I could have spared you any of this..."  
  
"Save it, Logan," she said tiredly. "No slugging, remember. You're getting off easy - so just keep this in mind the next time I screw up big. Besides, I've stopped listening to you anyway, so be quiet and get into this bed."  
  
It seemed to Buffy that everything that needed to be said, had been said. When she entered his room, she wasn't planning on climbing into his bed. But she could barely keep her eyes open, and he had stabbed and slashed hers to pieces so he could damn well share. Circumspectly, she sat up and pulled off her jacket; then she unzipped her pants and shimmied out of them, depositing both on the floor. Finally, she rolled over, pulled back the covers, tucked herself inside, and closed her eyes.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he laughed huskily. And then she heard him yanking off his boots. In his haste, one went flying out of his hand, across the room, and thudded against the wall. Buffy wanted to help him when she heard his jeans unzipping. After all, four hands are faster than two, she admitted to herself. However, she was so comfortable that thinking about helping was the most she could hope to accomplish.  
  
As he lifted the covers and slid between the sheets, she whispered, "If you want to make amends, you can hold me while I sleep. After my nap, I will require many, many backrubs... every day for the rest of your life. I sincerely hope you have the upper body strength to support my outrageous demand. If not, prepare to suffer."  
  
Logan pulled her back against his chest and both of them inhaled quickly at the contact. He began kissing her neck softly, but Buffy whacked his arm in mock irritation. "Stop it. Now we sleep. There'll be plenty of time for smoochies later."  
  
He chose to pretend she hadn't said that. Sliding his hand along the profile of her body, he touched something small, round and sharp, resting on top of her hip.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"That's my ring, Logan," Buffy intoned breathily, her body beginning to rouse beneath his hand. "You said it belonged with me, so that's where it is. By the way, when did you want to get married, tomorrow or the day after?"  
  
(end chapter)

Personal ANs:

Anna: Hey chica! I know, I love to torture Logan, not that the character's not tortured enough already, but hey… c'est comme-ca. Don't worry to much about Logan's pain. As you can see, he's feeling quite a bit better now. And yeah, poor Angel. He's got a lot on his mind lately, what with Conner and Cordy, etc. I was hesitant to add Dawn and Buffy onto his plate, but then I thought, why not? Glad you're still reading:]

Pay-day1999: Hey bebe! Glad you liked the interaction. The thing about Angel and Dawn is that if Dawn had memories of seasons 1-3, she would probably have some resentment toward him because he left town, but that's 3 years of history where she would have had frequent contact with him, when he wasn't Angelus, and she would have talked to Buffy about him. Remember how much Buffy mooned over him with Willow? I assume Dawn has memories of the same thing with her. Also, she really doesn't really know Logan. They've met, they've hung out a little, but she probably was wondering why she wasn't allowed to be there for the proposal. She would have felt left out, I think. Also, the morning after, Buffy would have no doubt dropped the bombshell about moving away from Sunnydale when she and Logan got married. Just my take on it. I could be completely full of it, in order to make this work (shrugs) You decide:]

Prophetess of Hearts: Hey sweetpea! Whoo hoo! Talk about an ego fiesta! I love it when y'all get into the characters. As far as Dawnie goes, it's cool – try not to be too hasty. She was just taking up for big sis, just like Buffy looks after her. Although I didn't take the time to write the scene, I envision Buffy rushing into the room, very upset – maybe crying – taking off the ring. Buffy probably would have asked her to give it back to Logan on her behalf, just so she didn't have to face him again. Think it over, then let me know what you come up with. Dawn will come back from this. The story's not over yet:]

Reviewer X: Hey sug! (Don't you like that name better than anonymous?) Anyway, thanks for taking the time to let me know you liked it. And so many chapters in one sitting? Wow! Makes me feel great. Hope you liked this latest effort, and don't be so shy. I promise I'm not a scary stalker. You can leave your handle without your email addy:]


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